One Day
by TiffanyL
Summary: Ten years separate them, and they find comfort only in their memories and the hopes of being reunited one day. Alternating POV's of scenes from CotBP, DMC, and AWE leading up to Will and Elizabeth's reunion. PostAWE, spoilers, WE
1. 1 Year

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, I just borrow them for fun sometimes.

One Day

It has been a year. A year since I have been on the sea, a year since I have been named the Pirate King, and a year since I have seen him…a year to the day since I laid eyes on my husband. It has been a hard and difficult year for me, and I become weary at the thought of nine more before I can be reunited with Will. As I look over at our 3-month-old son asleep in his bassinet, I smile to myself. The year has been hard, indeed, but not without its joys. I found out I was pregnant shortly after my last day with Will, and I was now lucky enough to have two pieces of him with me—his child and his heart. I have kept his heart safe with me and I place my ear to the chest at least once every day so that I can hear the slow and steady thump that assures me that Will is still with me though he is so far away.

I cannot imagine my life without him in it, and it is a miracle that we have both survived to this point. If one asked me a few years ago where I would be, a pirate lord, captain, the pirate king, and the wife of the ferrier of souls lost at sea would never cross my mind. So much has happened and I believe that it was all meant to be. I was destined to be all that I am, and while I suffer daily from the pain of separation from my husband, I am comforted by the notion that I will see him again and that we could be reunited forever. The baby stirs in his sleep, and I walk over to him and softly stroke his head until he settles again. He will hear stories, so many stories. I will tell him all about his father and prepare him for the day, nine years from today, when they will finally meet. I sit in the rocking chair where I rock young William to sleep every night and I watch him as he sleeps. My mind begins to drift to Will, as it often does. I wonder what he is doing, if he is closer to his father, if he is thinking of me at that very moment as well. I then force myself to stay strong for myself, for my son, and for Will, remembering the day that I almost gave up hope completely.

The new dress was flattering, but unbearable. I had heard the phrase "Beauty knows no pain," though I had no idea who had the audacity to coin it. I struggled down the stairs, trying to maintain a proper façade so that I would not disappoint my father. Every step became heavier as I descended because I knew that I was being forced into a courtship with the future Commodore. He was a fine man, to be sure, but he was not the one that I wanted. I knew in my heart that there was another man who could make me happier, though I feared that it was an impossible match. I could not see my father approving it, nor could I see a future with him beyond my naïve daydreams. I had felt for him since we had found him eight years prior, and to this day seeing him made my heart flutter in a way that no other experience ever had.

As I pondered the injustice of it all, I concentrated on her steps so that I would not trip over my new dress and did not look up until I heard my father's praise of my appearance. When I raised my head, I was pleasantly surprised to see Will at the foot of the stairs. I threw decorum to the wind and hurried down the stairs after calling his name. I told him about the dream that I had had about him the previous night, noting that he was not speaking to me and could barely meet my eyes. He had a dumbfounded look upon his face that I took as disinterest in my behavior. I knew I should not be speaking so openly to him, but I could not help myself. He made me feel alive in a way that no one in my proper lifestyle ever could.

I knew how ridiculous I sounded, spouting off about a dream that I had about a boy I could never be with, but some part of my subconscious wanted him to understand what I was doing. I wanted him to recognize that I thought about him constantly, that he was in my dreams as well as in my heart. I could not say such things bluntly in the audience of my father, but I felt that perhaps he could sense my excitement at his presence. He looked so nervous and each time he met my eyes he looked so frightened and shocked that I began to feel slightly uncomfortable. Perhaps I was wrong to think…to hope…that perhaps he thought about me, too. I had always nurtured a small hope that he dreamt about me, that he could see himself with me one day…but he always called me "Ms. Swann"

I asked him continuously to call me Elizabeth, and this day was no different. Once again, he said "At least once more, Ms. Swann." Every time he said that to me, my heart sunk a bit further. It did not matter where we were, even if it was a rare occasion that it was just the two of us in a room that is what he always said. Today it sent my heart crashing to the pit of my stomach. I may be a girl of only eighteen, but I know when to give up. It had been eight years and it was obvious that he had no interest in a girl feigning propriety in a world where she dreamed of more. I wanted out of my corset and I wanted adventure. I always had. I think that he knew that about me, he could sense it. Obviously, that was not what he wanted in a girl.

As I left, I steeled myself against him. I could not entertain my personal daydreams anymore. I had to grow up. If that meant doing my best to forget about Will Turner and focus my attention on a man that was twice my age, I would do it. I could feel my hope of an adventurous life slipping away as I walked out the door—a shocking and most depressing feeling. I did not know why my heart chose that day to give up, but the heart has no reason or logic. I made my decision and told myself that from now on, he would be no more to me than Mr. Turner, the blacksmith. I would not dwell on what could have been, and maybe one day, I would grow to be happy. One day I would come to accept that I cannot have everything (or everyone) that I want. One day I would be able to walk by him and not feel anything. One day.

One year—one year, to the day, I have been bound to this ship. One year ago today I had to say goodbye to my wife and set out for the sea, not to see her again for ten years. I think about her every day, and every time we ferry the souls of those lost at sea I have to suppress the fear that she could be among them. I wonder how she is doing, I think about her daily activities and I ache for her. I focus a great deal of energy to my task so that I will not fall into despair. I try to remind myself that I could have been taken from her forever, that ten years rather than a lifetime was a much better option. I subconsciously put a hand to the place where my heart should be, and I am plagued with the feeling that I have become familiar with over the past year. I feel empty, saddened by the fact that I am a heartless man who cannot be with the one he loves—a man that is assigned a heady task so that one day I can return to her and be with her forever, should Calypso grace me enough to allow it. This sadness is quickly overcome with a feeling of purpose and satisfaction because I know that Elizabeth has my heart and is keeping it safe. My heart has never been my own, in truth, it has always been hers, and I told her so the last time I saw her. I do my duty so that I can return to her. That does not make the task any easier, however, and the past year has been long and arduous. I had to rectify all the wrongs that Jones had done when he betrayed his duty to the souls of those who died at sea, as well as accustom myself to being an immortal and captaining a ship of those who were not ready to cross over.

I am thankful to be closer to my father and he comforts me the best he can when I forget my purpose. It is hard to be around those who are dying or have died and not fall into despair. I have a job to do and I do well to remember it. The best source of comfort I have found, since I cannot communicate with Elizabeth by the bounds of the curse, is remembering. I think of everything in my life that led me to this point. A "touch of destiny," as I have been told. Nine more years. In exactly nine years I will get to see her again, and as a comfort to myself I begin to remember the day I decided I would be more to her than just a blacksmith.

I awoke with a splitting headache. It took me a moment to recognize my surroundings. I was on the ground and there were several people in the streets, putting out fires and cleaning the mess that the pirates had left. Then I remembered. The pirates. God knows what they wanted—perhaps to rescue Jack Sparrow, who had been placed in prison just the day before. I still did not know what to think of Jack Sparrow's purpose in Port Royal, not that it mattered to me in the slightest. He was a pirate and I had enough sense to know that any involvement with pirates was practically a death sentence.

As I walked the streets and surveyed the damage, I had the sudden urge to check on Elizabeth. She had no idea, I was sure, of the feelings that I had for her. It pained me to remain well mannered around her as society expected of me. I could not bear to watch her smile falter as I called her Ms. Swann. I so desperately wanted to call her first name and have a sense of comfort and familiarity with her, but I knew that I could not. Her father already could sense that I was in love with his daughter, I was sure. I was also sure that Governor Swann most likely had much bigger plans for his daughter than marrying her off to a blacksmith—however, I did not want to offend him in anyway should the situation change one day. I wanted him to recognize me has a gentleman, not as a lowly blacksmith that could not possibly be worthy of his daughter. Therefore, I called her Ms. Swann, as much to her chagrin as mine.

I rounded the corner to Elizabeth's grandeur mansion and immediately began to feel an unsettled stirring in my stomach. Something was not right. I broke into a run and soon saw the gate to the mansion had been broken and the front door was open. I called out her name—in my desperation, I forgot all propriety and called her first name as I had wanted to so many times before. The only answer I received was from one of the servants that had survived. I looked behind him and saw the body of their doorman, the man who had let me in to deliver the Commodore's sword the day before. The frightened look on the servants face told me that something had gone horribly wrong in the house. I asked him where Elizabeth and the Governor were, hoping that they had been secretly stowed away in a safe place until the pirates had left. The servant looked distraught at the mention of Elizabeth's name and told me that she had been taken. If I did not have enough reason to loathe pirates before, I certainly had a case at that moment. My heart dropped and the only thing I knew to do was to run to the fort, where I hoped a search party had been formed.

I came across the Commodore and Elizabeth's father soon enough and found them scouring over maps and talking about plans of action. Talking, I knew, would do no good. As they sat around speaking, Elizabeth was being taken further away. Not knowing what else to say, I made my presence known by stating the obvious—that they had taken Elizabeth. They both looked at me as if I had no right to be there, but I did not care. I no longer cared about upholding my appearance to Governor Swann for the sake of a future with Elizabeth; I just wanted to know she was alive and safe. As they asked me if I had any ideas about her whereabouts, the only plan that came to mind was one that even I did not want to put to action—to ask Jack Sparrow for help. I had discovered that he was still in jail and if he had any associations with the pirates that had abducted Elizabeth, he would probably have an idea of where they had taken her. The Commodore and the Governor immediately ignored me, and I knew that for action to be taken I would have to take matters into my own hands.

I headed straight for the prison, knowing that I was a fool for doing so—but I could not think of any other option. Action was necessary, and Jack Sparrow appeared to be my only hope. Even if association with a pirate was a death sentence, I had no choice. As I ran down the stairs to Jack's cell, I thought only of Elizabeth. One day I would see her again, one day I would find her and save her from those who took her from me, and one day…one day I would find the courage to tell her how I feel about her.


	2. 2 Years

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I just have fun with them sometimes

A/N: I had some issues with formatting the first chapter; hopefully this one is easier to follow!

One Day

_Elizabeth & William Turner III_

_Port Royal_

Two years have crept by. I have watched little William grow from a newborn to a curious infant, with deep brown eyes just like his father. I have found a job in a nearby shop where I stand behind a counter and sell candles to villagers nearby. I have made plans to move to Tortuga with William in the near future. It may not be the most respectable of places, but I have a duty to fulfill to my fellow pirates as well as myself. Hopefully, if I am there long enough I will run into some familiar faces. For the past two years, William has been my biggest comfort. Caring for him takes my mind off my own pain.

I miss Will more with each passing day, but I live in the comfort of knowing each day that passes is one day closer to being with him again. I long for his touch, for his embrace, and for him to meet his son. I wish there was a way I could communicate with him and tell him that he is a father—that it is no longer just me he will be coming home to, but a family. In moments of loneliness I miss my father as well. He was never able to meet his grandson, nor was he able to know that his only child was married—let alone the other titles I have acquired along the way.

I carry William to a nearby cliff that overlooks the ocean. I am reminded of the words that Sao Feng spoke to me just before his death. "All men are drawn to the sea, perilous though it may be." I am drawn to the sea for several reasons. I am still the woman I have always been, though I have matured and have gained a maternal instinct. I long for the open sea, for adventure. I do not wish to be one of those wives who does nothing but wait around for her husband. I will wait for him for eternity; I love him with all of my heart and he knows that. But after two years I have come to the conclusion that I will make the most of my life and help my son grow to be a strong boy that chases after his own adventures. I will go to Tortuga and make a life for myself there as soon as possible. If that leads us to the sea then so be it. I want to keep my spirits alive so that on that wonderful day when Will returns to me, I still have the spirit that drew him to me in the first place. He knows me to be independent and constantly changing, so that is what I will continue to be—to be the woman he fell in love with.

I remember the day we were reunited after my abduction aboard the Black Pearl. We were so young and naïve then. We had no idea the many adventures that lay before us. As we sat below the decks of the Interceptor, I saw for the first time the tenderness in his eyes when he looked at me. We had been through so much in the past few days it seemed impossible that the week before I had been worried about corsets and whether he would ever call me by my first name. Sitting with him as he softly spoke to me I felt a complete calmness with him, a peace that I did not understand nor did I ever want to stop feeling.

He brought up why I had given Barbossa his name instead of my own. I felt every nerve in my body tense and my heart beat twice as fast as before. While I originally rationalized to myself that I gave Will's name because I was worried they would want me solely for my status as the Governor's daughter, I was forced to admit to myself that I wanted to hear my name joined with his—I wanted to know what it sounded like. Elizabeth Turner. Little did I know that soon that really would be my name. It was then that I realized it was destined to be my name.

He bandaged my hand and apologized for his rough blacksmith's hands. I had not even noticed, I was too focused on the way the candlelight reflected in his eyes and the crease of his brow as he expressed concern for my well-being. It was everything I had dreamt of since I could remember, and I did not care what circumstances had brought us to that moment, I was just thankful that the moment had finally come. I drew up all of my courage and told him that though his hands were rough, I did not want him to stop. That seemed to give him courage and he came towards me as if to kiss me. His hand fell to the medallion around my neck before his lips touched mine and it caused him to draw back.

I immediately felt guilty because my secret was exposed—that I had taken his medallion eight years prior and had never returned it to him. It had been my little secret, and I would take the necklace out every so often and think about the possibility of a future with Will—the very reason that I had taken it in the first place. Had James or my father seen it, they could have pitched Will back overboard or sent him to jail for piracy. I could not have that on my conscience. Will then asked me why I had taken it, and I explained that I was afraid he was a pirate and how awful it would have been. I saw in his eyes that he was struggling with a painful realization. In the last few days everything about his life had turned upside down. He had broken the law to rescue me and had learned that his own father was a pirate—the kind of human he hated the most. He realized he was descendant of one and that he was quickly becoming one himself. I did not know how to react to his open expression of pain, and I felt partly to blame for it—so I let him be. One day, I will ask for his forgiveness. One day I will tell him that it was then I realized how much I truly loved him. One day he will know that in that moment I knew he was the only one for me.

_Captain Will Turner_

_The Flying Dutchman_

As with any job, some days are better than others. I had to ferry a family yesterday. The father chose to cross over with his wife and two young girls, and I found myself aching for the tragedy they had faced. The only consolation I have found recently is that today marks two years gone by since I have seen Elizabeth. Two years have past and I have eight more to serve. While I am able to keep myself busy with my duties, it does not lessen the pain. For the first year or so, I was completely confident that she was waiting for my return; that she would be on that beach the moment I came to the horizon. However, I am becoming plagued with doubt. I wish there was some way, any way, to reach her. Whenever we are on the surface, which is a rare occurrence, I look for ships and I use my telescope to see aboard them, hoping against hope for a glimmer of her hair, an outline of her slender form. I have looked for the Pearl, though I have not been lucky enough to find her. Even some news from Jack would be a comfort. I also have never had the opportunity to thank him for what he did for Elizabeth and I. It must have been a terrible decision for him to make, and while sometimes in my lowest moments I wish I had just died so that I would not be forced to endure these years, I ultimately realize that he made a great sacrifice for us and I am thankful for it.

The pain of not knowing whether Elizabeth is well is what hurts the most. It makes the days most unbearable. I have no way of knowing if she is ill, if she has been able to make a life for herself without her father, if she has found another to love…The questions grow more and more every day and I have no means of answering them. I only ferry the souls of those who die at sea—should she die on land, I would have no way of knowing. I do not allow myself to think of her as anything but alive and well, so I focus much of my attention on the things I will do when I see her again. I will hold her and not let her go for as long as I am able. I will tell her that I love her more than life itself and that I would give anything to get back these ten years that we are losing. It is the thought of her warm body against my own that brings me out of my solitude.

The last time I felt this consumed by concern for Elizabeth was when she was marooned on that island with Jack after I foolishly revealed that it was my blood they needed, not hers. I was naïve in my bargaining skills at the time and I did not specify how Barbossa was to free Elizabeth. If there is one thing I learned from that experience it was how and when to reveal information—as Beckett discovered two years ago aboard the Endeavor. At that particular time, however, I had no idea what I was doing. I just knew that I wanted Elizabeth off the Black Pearl and safely away from the horrible men that had abducted her. As I exchanged one last desperate look in her eyes, I damned the gag that had been shoved in my mouth. There was so much I had yet to say to her and I may never get the chance again. When she fell off the plank I felt my heart fall with her. The crew raised the anchor and we sailed away from her and Jack, not knowing if they were able to make it to the island or not.

I did not know if she could get off the island. I did not know if there was food or shelter there. The only comfort I had was that she was with Jack—a man who honestly had not given me any reason not to trust him, a man who had been marooned on that very island before and had found a way to escape. I had to place all of my hope in him, that he would protect her and keep her safe for me. He knew how much I cared for her, he knew how much I loved her. He would find a way to save them both and bring her back to me. I could not bring myself to fear what was ahead of me. I knew that they were taking me back to the Isla de Muerta. I knew that they planned to use my blood to repay my father's debt. I had no way of knowing whether they would cut my hand as they had cut Elizabeth's or if they would kill me in hopes of truly releasing themselves from their curse.

As we sailed away from her, I had to force myself to believe that one day I would see her again, that one day we would be able to put this whole ordeal behind us—that one day, we would be able to share our lives together as husband and wife. I no longer saw us as two people who were separated from each other by status and circumstance. We were meant to be together and one day the world would know it.


	3. 3 Years

Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, I just have fun with them from time to time!

_Elizabeth Turner & William Turner III_

_Tortuga_

I can hardly believe three years have passed. Three cruelly slow years, hastened only by the trials of raising a toddler. While I half-expected William's first words to be "yo-ho," they were, as with most toddlers, the words "mama" and "papa." I could never fully explain the way my heart soared hearing my child's first words. While he calls me mama he asks for his papa—the only reason he knows the word is because I tell him stories about his father every night before he goes to sleep.

We have been living in Tortuga for nearly half a year by now. I have quickly gained respect from the townspeople and the pirates that pass through every day of the week. I am known as the Pirate King and respected as such, but I am also revered as the wife of the now-legendary Captain Will Turner, the man who fought the horrible Davy Jones and took his place aboard the Flying Dutchman. Those who met my husband before his departure note that his son is growing to look just like him. Little William's dark brown curls and curious eyes are a constant reminder of the man he will one day come to know.

I have made many decisions for my family in recent months. The move to Tortuga was an easy decision to make, especially because I have no extended family or obligations to worry about in Port Royal. I have also decided to take a voyage. I have sent word to Singapore to have my ship brought back to me so that I can sail her through the Spanish Main with my son. Acquiring a crew has not been difficult because of my status among pirates. My poor father, rest his soul, would turn in his grave if he saw what his well-bred daughter of society had become today. I am living the life I have always wanted, save one thing. Life could be perfect had I my husband with me. Will would be so proud of the life I am creating for myself, and I cannot wait to tell him of all my adventures once I set sail with William next month. We will be sailing for over a year and though he won't remember the voyage when he is older, I want him to become accustomed to the sea as early in life as possible. I have found a young maid who is willing to come aboard with us to help me care for him while I am busy with my crew—I should never want my William to feel neglected. If this voyage goes well, I plan on spending every other year at sea with him. This will place me back on land the year that Will is to return to me, and by then I will be full of stories and I will have a precocious 9 year old to introduce. I have begun to keep a detailed diary of everything I am doing so that I can regale Will with stories once we have time. I cannot wait until we have that time to share each night as husband and wife. I pray that Calypso grant him freedom upon his return. It has only been three years, I cannot begin to imagine what will happen if he is taken from me yet again after his day with William and I in seven years.

The Empress should arrive in a few days and shortly thereafter, William and I will set sail. I have hopes to run into the Pearl, which has yet to make dock here since I have lived in the area. While I have seen some familiar faces amongst the riotous crowds of Tortuga, the comfort of visiting old friends would make for a good adventure in my diary. The thought of keeping a diary reminds me of being young and smitten with the mysterious blacksmith's apprentice, and it is that very same girlish notion I hold on to so that I can always remember what it feels like to be overwhelmed with love. I do not dare allow my hopes to heighten in the possibility of catching a glimpse of the Dutchman. I know that by the bounds of the curse I am not allowed to communicate with Will, though I am not sure that includes chance encounters—I just know that I cannot actively pursue him. However, I know that the chance of such an encounter is extremely unlikely and therefore I force the notion out of my mind.

I am no stranger to forcing notions out of my mind. On this, the third anniversary of our separation, I place my ear to the chest for the millionth time and I close my eyes and drink in the sound of Will's heart beating so close to me. My mind wanders to the day that we defeated Barbossa, completely unaware that in less than a year's time he would be our ally—and the very man who would marry us.

I remember being in the cave at the Isla de Muerta and feeling relieved that our ordeal was finally over. While I was still cloudy on the details of how we resolved the tangled web of deceit that we had grown accustomed to over the week, I knew one thing—Will was safe and our adventure was over. He and I had both survived, but to what consequence? In a moment of pure desperation, I had promised myself to the Commodore. I had no choice at the time and at that moment, I would have given anything to take it back.

I said the only thing that came to mind—that we should return to the Dauntliss. I did not mean that I wanted to return to the Commodore, I only meant that we had to return to reality and figure out where we stood. It was finally clear to me that Will and I both desperately wanted the same thing; we were both openly longing for each other. I did not know how I would break my engagement to James, but I knew that it had to be done somehow. Will then brought the Commodore into our reality by commenting on his concern for my safety. He called him my fiancé, something I did not know he was aware of. It caught me off guard and I opened my mouth to say something—anything—that would let him know that my heart belonged to him alone. My mouth failed my heart in that moment, and with nothing to say I walked past the love of my life and began to make my way back to the Dauntliss. I had pushed the notion of our future together out of my mind—my duties as a daughter and as a woman of my word won out over my heart.

The journey back to the ship felt eternally longer than it actually was. Will and I shared several awkward glances and I could see the pain in his eyes as he rowed us back to the Dauntliss. Aboard the ship, James welcomed me with a hug—a blatant show of affection that any fiancée would expect. I dodged his grasp and asked to be excused to my cabin for rest. Later that night, I checked that the Commodore was at the helm and that my father was asleep in his quarters and I searched for Will, knowing that he would be awake. I crept down to the brig, where Jack was sitting in his cell, surrounded by treasures but saddened at the loss of his ship. He informed me that if I was looking for the "whelp," he could be found in a remote storage cabin, where he was probably waiting for another "opportune moment." I was unsure of what Jack meant at the time, but I proceeded quietly to the cabin and found Will sitting on a barrel of gunpowder with his face in his hands.

Unsure of how to approach him, I called his name softly. He looked up quickly, surprised to see me. Again, I tried to express my feelings for him, but they came out wrong. He looked as though he had much to say to me as well, but he stopped himself and told me that upon our return to Port Royal, should my father grant him clemency, he would maintain the lines of propriety and wish me all the best in my marriage to the Commodore. As he began to walk away, I cried out that he didn't mean it; that I didn't mean it. I told him that it was not meant to be like that, that if things were different I would be with the man I loved—and that that man was not James Norrington. Will stopped in the doorway and gave me one last glance. He called me Elizabeth and told me that there were many things that should have turned out differently. He told me that one day he would square his conscience with Jack Sparrow, that one day he would be able to right all the wrongs he had done. As he walked away from me, I could have sworn I heard him say that one day he would tell me that he loved me.

_Captain William Turner_

_The Flying Dutchman_

It comes to my attention that today is the third anniversary of not only my curse, but of my wedding as well. I am surrounded by a cloud of desperation every day of my immortal life thus far—desperate souls who are not yet aware of their demise, and souls who plead with me to allow them years of service rather than death. This cloud keeps me from remembering the good things. It has been a quiet day, no shipwrecks to speak of. My father is at the helm and my crew is busy keeping up ship. I lean against the ship rail and look out to the horizon, much like I did my first day as captain. The only difference now is that I cannot see Elizabeth in the distance. She is not looking back at me with bittersweet longing. All I see before me is the sea—the perilous sea that I have always been drawn to.

I remember our wedding day as if it were yesterday. It can hardly be remembered as a wedding day because so much happened in those hours of battle, but it is the day of our marriage just the same. It seems completely appropriate that after all our trials together we should be married upon the sea, on the Black Pearl. It was the Pearl that brought us together and it bound us together as well. My mind then wanders to what should have been our wedding day—the wedding that was unexpectedly called off upon Lord Beckett's arrival in Port Royal. As I take over for my father at the wheel, I remember the events of that fateful day—how they set the wheels of my destiny to motion.

The morning was rainy, but I did not care—I had not a care in the world, for that day I was finally to be married to Elizabeth. It had been three months since our ordeal aboard the Black Pearl. I had saved Jack from his sentence to hang and he had escaped to the Pearl. In the midst of the rescue, I finally confessed to Elizabeth that I was in love with her, and Elizabeth proclaimed to her father and her fiancé that her heart truly belonged to me. They were both surprisingly gracious at her admission, and after that day we knew that we would never be separated again. I proposed marriage shortly thereafter, knowing that there was no need to wait for the inevitable. My life and my heart belonged to Elizabeth Swann and no one else, and I wanted our lives together to begin as soon as possible. The plans were made, invitations sent out, and here I was waking on our wedding day.

As I dressed myself that morning, I let my mind wander for the thousandth time to our future together. I gathered my effects and started out the door when I found that armed guards were already waiting for me. They immediately handcuffed me and completely ignored my shouts of protest. I repeatedly asked what was going on but none of them answered me. They dragged me in the opposite direction of the wedding and I attempted to tell them that I was supposed to be at the fort but to no avail. After conversing with their leader, they then turned round and dragged me towards the fort. I knew it had to be some sort of misunderstanding and my only concern was that Elizabeth would think that I was not going to show up for the ceremony. The rain began to fall harder as we approached the crowd waiting for Elizabeth and I to become husband and wife. Then I saw her, sitting in the grass in her magnificent gown, water dripping from her hair and face, holding her wilted bouquet. She looked as beautiful as I had ever seen her, if not more so. She turned and caught my eye and immediately ran to me. Had my hands not been constricted by irons, I would have held her so that I could assure her that everything would be alright.

She trembled, cold from being soaked to the bone, and asked why it all was happening. I told her honestly that I did not know, and could not overcome the urge to tell her how beautiful she looked. She claimed that it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, a statement that stirred an odd sense of foreboding deep within me, but I ignored it. We were soon informed by Lord Beckett that not only I but Elizabeth as well was under arrest for assisting in the escape of Jack Sparrow. We stood firm in our resolve and demanded that we have the right to defend ourselves before being sent to prison. Governor Swann appeared to have lost all of his authority and we were escorted to the fort prison, into the very cells that I had helped Captain Jack Sparrow escape from only months before.

As they dragged us away, I tried my best to comfort Elizabeth by swearing that one day I would be her husband, that one day we would be husband and wife so that no man could put our bond asunder. She smiled weakly at me and nodded, showing strength that I do not think she knew she had at the time. I knew that we were meant to be together and that one day we would finally be given our chance.


	4. 4 Years

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I just like borrowing them for fun!

_Elizabeth Turner & William Turner III_

_The Empress_

On this, the mark of the fourth year out of the ten we must endure, I look out to the open sea from my place at the helm. The year-long voyage is almost done and I have watched William learn to talk and gain his sea legs as we have visited many ports. He has become the world traveler at the age of three, and I am so thankful to have him as a son—as a comfort and a companion these long months at sea. I had forgotten how much I love the spray of the sea on my face, the smell of salt when I first wake up in the morning. I have gazed into sunrises and sunsets, knowing that Will is on the sea looking at the direct opposite at that very moment.

I take great comfort in knowing that because he is immortal and I hold his heart as well as the key to it, he is safe. It is less worrisome to a degree knowing that he is on a ship and on the sea where he loves to be. I miss him terribly and it thrills me that this voyage has gotten us through another year apart.

Three months into our voyage we were fortunate enough to come across the Pearl. Jack was at the helm as we came upon the ship. He was happy to see us and welcomed young William and I aboard as soon as he recognized us—for a few moments we were given quite a fright and had to signal him not to fire upon us. We boarded the Pearl and I was greeted by several warm welcomes and many smiles as I introduced my son to the crew. He was told several times that he was the spitting image of his father and grandfather, which grows truer as each day passes. We sailed alongside the Pearl for nearly a week because the Empress had no real course, we were sailing from port to port as we pleased as long as we could afford it. I had money saved from the handlings of my father's estate after his death and I have place that money in a safe place, saving it only for my voyages with William over the next few years.

We spent the evenings dining aboard the Pearl and young William was delighted to hear stories of his father's adventures from the point of view of a legendary pirate. Jack has a knack for telling grand stories and William encouraged him by hanging on his every word and clapping with glee when Jack and his father saved the day at the end of every story. I was thankful to Jack for many things—for saving Will's life, for giving up his opportunity for immortality, and for taking such a liking to my son and welcoming him in a way that a fun uncle would, which honestly surprised me. Jack always keeps us on our toes and while I had some trouble trusting him in the beginning I have since learned that I can trust him with my life as well as the lives of those I love. He may be a pirate that usually cares only for himself, but he is a good man with a good heart.

I know that William will not remember his first encounter with his Uncle Jack, but I had a splendid time catching up with him and watching his interactions with my son over that week. He told me of how Barbossa took the Pearl from him shortly after I saw him last and that it had taken him nearly a year to gain it back. Barbossa had finally relinquished the Pearl after Jack used leverage—the Pirate Code as enforced by his father—to force him to understand that the Pearl was rightfully his. Barbossa is currently serving as the first mate and Jack keeps a sharp eye to avoid another mutiny. Pirates will be pirates.

We are headed back to make port in Tortuga, we should arrive there in a few weeks time. I have had an amazing time on the sea but I will be thankful to reach land for a year. I will be back in my home and William and I can begin his lessons once he turns four this winter. He is a bundle of energy and I will be happy when he has a yard and a long beach to play on—there are only so many places a toddler can safely explore aboard a ship. While a ship can symbolize freedom, it can also make one feel trapped, as Will must feel. I remember the short period of time when I was imprisoned at the fort on what should have been my wedding day.

Will had tried his best to comfort me and I had all the faith in the world that he would figure out a way to save us, but I could not resign myself to staying in that prison cell. It was not right and certainly not how my mind's eye had pictured the days events. My dreams the night before had been filled with hopes of the future, images of our children, and what it would be like to finally be married to Will. Not once in those dreams did I see images of pirates and fantasize about sitting in a prison cell in my wedding gown.

I remember being freezing as I sat in the cell, and after Will received his leave to search for Jack he came to see me before he set out. He explained the situation to me, but that did not help me understand why we were thrust into this situation without warning. I held his hands through the bars and though my father was in earshot, I plainly let him know how much I wanted him. He knew that we had both waited for this day too long to delay it any more than necessary.

That was the first time we had to share a painful farewell. He was off to search the seas for a pirate who had evaded the East India Trading Company for years. Will knew how to go about it, however, and I had complete faith in him. I did not want to say good-bye to him because I had no idea when I would see him again. That was the first time he told me to keep a weather eye on the horizon and he made as if to kiss me but left me with one last glance. I was left yearning for his touch and I swore to myself that as soon as I was free of the cell I would find him and help him in his search for Jack.

It took me only a few hours before I was out of the cell and took it upon myself to go after him. I headed to Tortuga, where Will told me he would be heading first. It took some time to get there and I was unable to find him. I did find Jack, though, and after a strange reconnaissance with James Norrington, I set sail with Jack on what was to become the grandest adventure of my life. While I did not know where Will was, I knew that one day we would be together again and that one day we would understand why our fates had led us to that point.

_Captain William Turner_

_The Flying Dutchman_

Four years I have served my cause to the Dutchman. I have been faithful to my duty as well as to my love for all of these years, months, days, and hours. In six years, I can return to her and I count the hours as if they were millennia. I have watched countless sun-downs and sun-ups, knowing that Elizabeth is watching the same ones in the opposing direction. I feel her presence close to me, as if she is on the sea with me but cannot be seen. We have not gone to the other side in many days now. I have taken on several new crew members in the last year alone—the hurricane season was extremely active, taking many poor souls with it.

The task is monotonous and at times unbearable. Each day brings more of the same, and no amount of love for the sea can ever overshadow the amount of love I have for Elizabeth. I have become very close to my father and he and I have shared countless stories. I told him of my crossing from England, the trouble I got into as a young boy, and the strength shown by my mother as she raised me. He has told me tales of his adventures aboard the Black Pearl, of the mutiny against Jack, and times of trouble under the Dutchman's previous captain. He says he regrets none of his actions because they allowed him to know me as the man I have become, but he deeply regrets not seeing my journey adulthood.

I do not have to sleep, but when I rest at night I lay on the deck, look up at the countless stars and imagine what my life would be like with Elizabeth today had our destinies been different. Perhaps we would have a child, a young boy with eyes like mine and a stubborn streak like hers. I wonder what it would be like to give my try at being a father, at raising a young boy into a man. Elizabeth would make a wonderful mother, I am certain. We could both teach him to sail and around the age of four I would love to take him on a voyage around the sea, as I'm sure Elizabeth would enjoy as well. The child of the Pirate King, the pirate lord of Singapore as well as of the captain of the Flying Dutchman would be destined to love the sea as his parents do.

These thoughts lead me to dwell on my first days aboard the Dutchman, when Jack tricked me into offering the settlement of his debt. I was stunned to meet my father, less stunned to find out that Jack had betrayed me to accomplish his own ends. He is a good man, to be sure, but at that time, I was livid with him as well as myself for falling for his tricks again. I was terribly concerned for Elizabeth, praying that she was well and safe wherever she was. I did not know if she was still in her cell or if her father had found a way to free her. Little did I know that she was on her way to Tortuga in search of me. As far as I knew, I was bound to the Dutchman until I could settle Jack's debt, which threw a large wrench in my plans to get back to my fiancée.

My father helped me escape the Dutchman after I acquired the key from Davy Jones himself. I had learned a great deal about myself in my days aboard the ship. I learned the value of information and the value of an ally in my father. The scars from the lashings still lay across my back and I curse the day I ever laid foot on this ship, but I know that ultimately my destiny was set as its future captain. When I managed to find Jack on that island I was shocked not only to see James Norrington in his company, but Elizabeth as well.

I could not fully comprehend the relief and joy I felt to see her. She looked just as happy to see me and ran to me immediately. I held her in my arms and kissed her soundly, thankful beyond words that I was back where I belonged. My heart does not beat truly unless it is near her, and that stands true to this day, as my heart is safe in her keeping. There was so much that I wanted to tell her, that I had found my father and that I had promised to set him free however possible.

After a trying battle against Jack and Norrington for the chest and the key that unlocked it, Elizabeth brought me back to consciousness aboard the Pearl. She revealed to me her journey from Port Royal to Tortuga and ultimately back to the Pearl, and I told her of my father and my new purpose in releasing him from Davy Jones. She seemed as though something was bothering her, but when I asked she merely said that it had been a long week and that she wanted nothing more than to get back to her home and leave the sea behind for awhile. She did not mention our wedding and I did not want to press the matter. I knew that one day it would come to be and that one day my father would be free of the Dutchman's hold. That one day we could all finally live together as a family.


	5. 5 Years

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I just borrow them for fun sometimes!

A/N: Sorry for the slow updates, I'm working a lot this week so I may not be able to get the next chapter up til this weekend! Keep a weather eye for it ;-)

_Elizabeth Turner & William Turner III_

_Tortuga_

Five years to the day. We have made it halfway. There are some moments when it seems like just yesterday we were doomed to this ten year sentence, but there are times when it feels like an eternity since I have felt the touch of Will's hand. To say that I miss him is ridiculous at this point. The longing goes so far beyond simply missing that I cannot even express the joy it will bring when I have him in my arms again forever.

Young William has been taking lessons for nearly a year now, and he is coming along quite well. He has learned to read and speak quite eloquently for a child of his age, and he constantly asks about his father, the great Captain Turner. I have told him every story at least ten times, and he never tires of them. I know that he is not yet old enough to comprehend the situation, but he does know that he has a wonderful father who will return to him one day—and William is certainly thrilled at the prospect of meeting his hero. It has been difficult to explain to him why papa has been gone his whole life, but he has been a strong boy. He is his father's son, through and through.

As for me, I have been working with several of the other children in Tortuga, giving them lessons at well. I was quite surprised at the number of children found here—but they are found on the outskirts of the main village. Many parents in the area forbid their children to go to the town area until they are at least teenagers. The majority of us here are or have been pirates, so we know how much to shelter our children from until they are of proper age. Since I am one of the few here that were brought up to be a "high class" girl, as they call me, I was quickly named the town's tutor. I teach the children how to read and write and how to speak eloquently so they do not grow up thinking that the only word for "disregard" is "belay," or that "shiver me timbers" can be applied in every day's conversation. I have several wonderful students, and the money allows William and I comfortable support while Will is away.

I get through each day hoping that I will make Will proud. I do none of this for me, I do it for the sake of our son. Now is not a time to be self-indulgent. I must do what I have to in order to provide for my family and prepare a place for Will to come home to. I am hoping that once he returns we can settle in Port Royal permanently—I want our family to grow in the place where we grew up together. But for now, I do what I must. While I must admit that my policy on doing what needs to be done has not always been exactly successful, I have no choice at this point and I trust that I need to act on my instinct.

I have just come home from teaching and I am watching William run himself ragged in the backyard before dinner. He has an endless supply of energy. I steal a moment to go to my room and I pull out the chest for a moment. I cannot resist placing my ear to the side and sighing in contentment at the gentle rhythm coming from inside. I place it back in its protected place and I look out the window and watch my son play in the grass. My mind begins to wander to the day where following my gut instinct seemingly ruined my life. I did what I thought I had to do but I went about it in the wrong way—I ended up killing a man and hurting the man I love most.

After we successfully evaded the Kraken, we realized that because we had not killed it, it would most certainly come back for us. It had been one of the longest weeks of my life, and one of the most confusing as well. I thought that I had everything straight until I saw that compass pointing to Jack every time I opened it. I had no idea what that meant. I knew that I was in love with Will, as I know it to this very day. I did not understand and the thought of possibly being in love with Jack instead terrified me. I can honestly say at this point that I never was in love him, but I was curious. Curious about how it would feel to abandon my life in Port Royal and throw my entire lot in with pirates. To live on the sea, sailing around the world with the most notorious captain ever written about. Looking back, I know that it is not him that I wanted most, it was his lifestyle—his sense of absolute freedom. I had always longed to live the exciting life of a pirate and I had fallen in love with one. However, that one pirate was and always will be William Turner, who is now a notorious captain that people write books about as well.

The Kraken wanted Jack and I knew that. I knew that it would find us even if we left the ship because of the black spot on Jack's hand. Jack had a debt to pay and he knew it. I took that bit of information and ran with it, knowing that if we were to be safe Jack would have to stay on the Pearl. To my disbelief, I used the bit of banter that had ensued between us and I kissed him to distract him. I chained him to the Pearl and I left him to die on the ship. It was the first time he called me a pirate and he even smiled at me, as if he knew why I was acting the way I was.

As I got into the dingy and Will asked me where Jack was, I lied. I saw the look in his eyes and I wondered if he had seen. I prayed that he did not because I knew he would never understand. I had never felt so guilty in my life. I had simultaneously doomed a man and possibly lost another. It took all of my willpower to fight back the tears as we rowed to Tia Dalma's hut to tell her what had happened. It was as if she could read my mind as she passed around elixir against the cold. Will was acting distant and something inside me knew that he had seen what had happened. When he turned to me and asked me if there was anything that could be done to save Jack, my heart constricted. I did not know why but it terrified me thinking that Will knew I had doomed Jack to the Kraken, that I had lied when I said he elected to stay behind. My fiancé thought me a cold-blooded killer and I could not bear it. The guilt was eating me alive and now Will would never want to marry me because he had seen what I was capable of. I knew then that we needed to do whatever it took to rescue Jack so that my guilt could subside and Will would change his mind about what I had become. I knew that I would do whatever it took for Jack to one day be saved from the locker. One day, I could be back in Port Royal, far away from that haunted place. I knew that one day, I would tell Will that I was only doing what I had to do.

_Captain William Turner_

_The Flying Dutchman_

I have not had a heartbeat in five years now. One never thinks about their heart beating until is no longer there—though I cannot name another who shares the predicament with me. Every so often I place a hand to my chest and can barely remember how if feels to have a pulse through my body. I look down and run a rough hand lightly over my scar and I try to remember how it felt whenever I saw Elizabeth. My heart would instantly flutter and my pulse would quicken. I still have a reaction to thoughts of Elizabeth, but I miss that leaping feeling in my heart that used to accompany them.

In the past five years, I have ferried many hearts to the other side, good and bad. A pirate ship attacked a voyage to the Americas just a few weeks ago, killing every civilian on board. As I tended to my duties, I thought about the differences between pirates themselves—good pirates and bad. I consider myself a good pirate. I consider Jack Sparrow a good man and a good pirate. My father, Elizabeth, the other eight lords of the court—we are all strikingly different than those who ravage civilian vessels and destroy lives for the sake of their own greed. When one is bound to a ship for ten years straight, one tends to ponder life's complexities. The differences in humanity are astounding, and it is hard for a good man to understand a bad man's thought processes. I am certainly not always a good man, but in comparison to others, I would say I have good intentions behind all my actions. I do not understand how someone could purposely hurt another to accomplish his own means.

As I begin to ponder this, I feel a tug of guilt in my gut, knowing that at one time Elizabeth was forced to do such a thing. She never had the opportunity to tell me, but I know her. I know that when it comes to protecting the ones she loves, she will do whatever it takes. She hurt Jack to save us, and I know that it tore her apart to do so. That is what makes her a good person, a good heart. She felt no satisfaction in leaving Jack on the Pearl. She felt horrible from the second she did it and would not rest until we had rescued him from the locker. I did not realize all this for myself in that moment, however. Quite the contrary, I have never been in more pain in my life.

To look up and see the love of your life kissing another man is an experience I could never adequately explain. The only tangible analogy I can think of to describe what I felt at that moment would be to say it felt as if my heart were being ripped out. Which, at this point in time, is painfully ironic. I saw her kissing him—Jack Sparrow, a man that I knew she had read about and admired since her youth—and I could not have been caught more off guard. By the time she climbed into the dinghy, I hid my pain. Through gritted teeth, I calmly asked where Jack was. She told me that he had elected to stay behind, which I believed at the time. It did not sound like Jack Sparrow, but perhaps Elizabeth had helped convince him. I did not know if she loved him, it was a notion that completely baffled me and I could not think of it.

I kept my stony silence until we reached Tia Dalma's hut. Once there, I found strange comfort only in continuously throwing my father's knife into a piece of wood. With every second, my bitterness towards Elizabeth's betrayal grew. The determination in my heart reserved for getting back to Port Royal with Elizabeth as soon as possible for the wedding began to shift to determination to rescue my father. He was slowly becoming my priority over her…that day was full of painful surprises. However bitter I was becoming, though, I could not bear to see her in pain. I knew that she was suffering, and try as I might I could not delight in that. I turned to her and made to say that if there was anything to be done to save him I would help her do so, and Tia Dalma interrupted me by saying there was a way. I saw Elizabeth's eyes light up and my heart fell. That was the first day I realized that my future may not be as I had envisioned it. There was a possibility that she could love someone besides me. It was an idea I had not entertained since her engagement to James Norrington, and I was unprepared to handle it.

Looking back, I realize it was guilt she felt—not for loving him, but for killing him. She never loved him and I am thankful for it. I know that one day, when we are together again, she and I will talk about that day and we will both remember it as the first day our love was truly tested. We eventually passed that test and after this wretched curse is lifted from me, we will spend the rest of our lives together.

I have had my heart ripped from me twice. The first time was on that day. The second time was, unfortunately, a literal circumstance. But on the other hand, I can find comfort in knowing that I have willingly given my heart away twice—both times to the same woman. I gave my heart to Elizabeth the day I met her, when I was rescued from the water. She held it for years without realizing it. Five years ago today, I gave it to her again for safekeeping. Whenever I feel unsettled because I do not have a heartbeat, I take comfort in remembering that I have never truly had a heart because it has belonged to her for as long as I can remember. I cannot really miss something I have never had.

One day, however, I will have my heart beat again. I will be able to see Elizabeth and think of her and feel that fluttering in my chest. One day I will have more to do than sit on a ship and think about good versus evil. One day I will be able to wake up next to my wife and realize that all the evil in the world does not matter because I have all that is good in the world lying next to me.


	6. 6 Years

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I just borrow them for fun sometimes.

A/N: This chapter is a bit longer to make up for the time between updates! Thanks to all the reviews, they make my day!

_Elizabeth Turner & William Turner III_

_The Empress_

I woke this morning pondering an exhausting yet somewhat comforting notion. Four more years. Those three words have been playing in my head the whole day. We have made it past the halfway point and we are now on the downward slope. I remind myself that each day that passes, no matter how hard it may be or how desperate I may become—each day is one day closer to seeing Will again. That thought gets me through each day and especially the nights. I have never been able to comprehend why, but I have subconsciously chosen a side of the bed. I have a large bed that is meant to be shared with my husband. Though I have never had the opportunity to share a room with Will, I have chosen a side of the bed and every night I gaze over to where he should be sleeping. Sometimes, if I gaze long enough, I can almost picture his sleeping form breathing in and out, slowly and steadily. I blink and the vision is gone, leaving me feeling simultaneously comforted and disheartened.

William and I have just begun our second journey together aboard the Empress. He has begun to learn how to run a ship from the crew and has quickly become accustomed to life on the sea. Somehow I feel that spending every other year on the sea instills a sense of adventure within him—not that he does not have one already. He has been talking of pirates since his first words, he has wanted to learn how to fight since he could walk. The art of sailing is just the icing on the cake for him. He soaks it up like a sponge, hungry for the day that he will finally meet his father—a man he has come to revere as one of the greatest pirates of all time.

I wonder what Will is doing at this precise moment. I wonder if he has kept up with the days and realizes that we have not seen each other in six years. I wonder if he is leaning over the bow of the Dutchman waiting for the sunrise as I lean over the bow of the Empress and wait for the sunset. Our two worlds are so alike and yet completely opposite. I close my eyes as the ship rises and falls over the waves of the sea. I cannot tell if it is the rocking of the ship or the thought of my husband that causes my stomach to churn slightly. I open my eyes and look down, noticing that I am gripping the railing so tightly that my knuckles have turned white. I look down to the depths of the ocean and try to send a message to Will from deep within my heart. Four more years, my love. Four more years.

A sudden call from the crows nest pulls me out of my reverie. I look to the west and I see a ship with black sails on the horizon, illuminated by the slowly setting sun. I smile to myself and call to my son and tell him that Uncle Jack is nearby. William runs to the rail to see for himself, and looks up at me with shining eyes. I run a hand through his dark curls and call to my first mate at the helm, ordering him to sail towards the Pearl. As we approach the ship, I call to Jack, who is standing at the wheel. He acknowledges me and, in a clumsily grand gesture, motions for William and I to come aboard. The two of us climb aboard a dingy and I row us over. Jack helps us climb aboard and we are greeted warmly and somewhat sadly. Jack informs us that Master Cotton has taken ill and may not make it through the day. In the innocence of childhood, William bluntly asks Jack and I what that means.

The concept of death is hard for a five-year-old to grasp, and I explain gently that Master Cotton has spent a good life with all of us and it is now time for him to go to a place where he could find well-deserved rest. William then asks if that place was on land or sea, because surely the easiest place to be happy was aboard a ship. Jack, in uncharacteristically gentle gesture, places a hand on my son's shoulder, agrees with him and says that Cotton will be able to spend forever on one of the grandest ships in the world. William is satisfied with that answer and skips off to play with Jack the monkey.

When we are alone, I ask Jack how the crew is doing. He tells me they are as well as could be expected, then asks me how I have been holding up the past two years. I sigh and say that we are as well as could be expected. I tell him that it does me good to see him, and he nods and tells me that "dear William" would come to claim his soul early if he thought Jack was not looking out for me. At the mention of Will, I lower my eyes to mask the twist of my heart. Jack opens his mouth as if to say something, but I stop him by quickly saying that William and I must head back to the Empress. Jack coughs and calls for Ragetti to prepare the dingy for us. William pouts and says goodbye to his Uncle Jack and climbs in with me. We board my ship and prepare to raise anchor. As the Pearl becomes a small spot on the horizon, I say a little prayer for Cotton.

The sun dips below the horizon behind me and I look down at my son from my position at the bow. I smile as I watch him run back and forth trying to keep up with a cannon that rolls across the deck as the ship pitches. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see it.

The green flash.

I feel my heart plummet to my stomach and I take a sharp breath. How did I not think of it? How did I not make the connection aboard the Pearl? Suddenly I knew what Jack was trying to tell me. Master Cotton lay dying, which meant that he would be receiving a visit. A visit from Captain William Turner of the Flying Dutchman, to ask him if he feared death.

I immediately begin to turn around, cursing that the wind could not carry us back to the Pearl faster. I am semi-conscious of the tears streaming down my face as I will the ship to reach the Pearl before the Dutchman goes back down. Then I see it—behind the Pearl, I can see the mast and sails of my beloved's ship. He is there. He is so close I can sense him, feel him. I hope against hope that Jack is telling him that I am near, that I have just left that very ship and that I am within minutes distance. Maybe he is realizing that I will come back so that I can see him, so that I can introduce him to his son.

So close. We are so close. I can make out the colors of the Dutchman now, I can see the crew milling about on deck, waiting for their captain to return from his duty. I cannot contain my excitement any longer and I being to scream his name. As I untie the dingy that we were in less than an hour before, I scream as loudly as I can, begging him to wait for me.

William runs to me, frightened. He asks me what is wrong, but I am unable to answer him—there is no time for explanation, we must get to the Pearl as soon as possible. As I begin to lower the dingy so that William and I can get in, I look up to see the Dutchman sailing away. I abandon the dingy and run to the stern, as close to the Dutchman as I can get.

I see him. I can see him. As I scream his name, I see him turn his head in my direction. As the ship dives into the water, I am almost positive I hear him call my name and tell me that he loves me. Then the Dutchman is gone. It is gone. I had a chance and I missed it.

I collapse on the deck, holding back tears and despair. My son, who has never seen me so distraught before, tentatively walks to me and places a small hand on my shoulder. Suddenly, I am overcome with a horrible feeling of guilt. My poor son. He had a chance to meet his father and I did not realize it in time. He must now wait the remaining four years, as must I.

My first mate comes to me and says that he will take over for the night; that I should retire to my cabin with William and rest. I numbly agree, and slowly walk with my son and allow him to climb into my bed with me. I hold him close and blindly run my fingers through his brown curls as the rocking of the ship lulls him to sleep. He is as sad as I am, he knows that he could have met his father tonight and he knows that I am equally upset that we both missed our opportunity. I begin to weep silently as I remember the last time that I felt this guilty—staying in Tia Dalma's hut just after I condemned Jack to Davy Jones' locker.

I had never felt so wretched in my life as I did that day. Rowing to Tia Dalma's that evening was painfully silent, and as we sat inside I saw the pain in everyone's eyes, especially Will's. I had done something unimaginable, something unspeakable. In the days that followed, as our plans to rescue Jack began to take shape, I noticed that Will could not bring himself to meet my eyes. By the time we reached Singapore, he would not speak to me unless he had to. Every day that passed without reconciliation caused my heart to break into smaller pieces. I could not bring myself to confront him, though. I knew he must think me a horrible person for what I had done. I resigned myself to the notion that once we rescued Jack from the locker, everything would be fine. Will would no longer have to see me as a murderer; he could begin to see me as his fiancée once more—the woman he loved. I decided that I would not force Will to speak to me until I could explain to him why I chained Jack to the ship, and it would be easier to explain once Jack was amongst us.

The guilt wrenched and twisted within me for nearly a month before we were able to reach the locker. It pained me to see Will pulling further away from me, and at one point on our journey he boldly asked me how much longer we were going to go without speaking. I mentioned my reasoning that everything would be better once Jack was rescued, once I could rescind my status as a killer. I saw something flash in his eyes, an emotion that I could not quite read. As I left him at the bow of the ship, I prayed that we would reach the locker soon so that I would finally be able to fully explain my actions to the love of my life.

After we successfully reached Jack in the locker, I sat on the stairs below the decks of the Pearl, trying to sort out my thoughts and emotions before I confronted Will. Jack had divulged my secret on the shore before we boarded the ship, so I knew the time must come soon. He paced around me and was finally the first to speak. I began to explain myself to him but he cut me off when I told him that I did not want to burden him. He claimed that he bore the burden, he just did not know what it was.

Suddenly, it all made sense. The distance, the silence, the pain of the previous month. He had not been angry with me for killing Jack. He had seen me. He had seen what I had done to distract him. He had seen me kissing Jack.

I suddenly replayed the days in my head, realizing what he must have been going through. He did not think me a killer. He saw me as a betrayer. He thought that I loved Jack. He had assumed with the rest of the crew that Jack had elected to stay behind, but he thought that I kissed him by means of saying goodbye.

I then realized that the guilt I had been feeling for the past month paled in comparison to the guilt I felt at that moment. He was so hurt, and I had been the cause of it. Suddenly, it was I who could not bear to look into his eyes. I tried to walk away from him before I lost all composure, but he grabbed me and forced me to look at him. He asked me how he could possibly trust me if I did not tell him these things.

I felt so overwhelmed with guilt at the horrible woman I had become, I could not answer immediately. Wallowing in despair, I told him what I was most afraid of—that he could not trust me. I was a person who could not be trusted and I could not bear to hurt him anymore. As I broke free of his grasp and ran back to the deck, I had to force myself not to collapse into tears. One day I would remember who I had once been. One day, he would realize that he was the only one for me, that I would never stray from him. One day, I would be able to not only face him, but face myself as well.

_Captain William Turner_

_The Flying Dutchman_

I have come to realize that sleep is not necessary for me to get through the days, so I hardly come to my cabin anymore. I have also discovered that the rare times I do sleep, I am plagued with dreams of nothing but Elizabeth's face; a temporary comfort until I wake up and realize that she is not really with me. I am lying awake on a bench on the deck of the Dutchman, watching the stars slowly fade into the dawn. The sun is rising on the sixth anniversary of my wedding, the sixth anniversary of my death, and the sixth anniversary of my curse. As I contemplate my life up to this point, I am suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. I can almost feel Elizabeth, and I can almost hear her speaking to me as if she were next to me. Four more years, my love. Four more years. I feel a sudden warmth course through my body as if I still had blood running through my veins. I have been captain of this ship for six years, and in those years I have never felt Elizabeth's presence as strongly as I feel her now.

I feel my throat constrict with emotion as my father approaches me, asking if I would like to take the helm for a while. He has come to know what this day of the year means to me, and he has learned that I usually want to be left alone to my thoughts. I slowly stand up and nod to him, telling him that he is free to rest for a few hours. Once I am alone at the wheel, I begin the think about my experience a few moments ago. Could it be possible that Elizabeth was near me? Was she directly below me on her side of the world, watching the sun fall below the horizon as I watched it rise? The thought gave me hope, and I closed my eyes and tried to imagine her embrace.

A familiar sense of duty overcame me and dragged me out of my daydream. Someone on the other side was ready to cross over to mine. I must go to him immediately and ask him if he wants to forestall his judgment and join my crew. I look to the rising sun and know that I should wait until it fully rises over the horizon. The moment that it does, the Dutchman dives under the waves and I feel myself being pulled up into the world I once knew. Every time we go to the topside I am overwhelmed with a feeling of loss; I revel in the fact that I am once again in the same world that Elizabeth inhabits, and I always wish that she could possibly be in the same place I am at that moment. She never is, however, and I go about my duty then return to where I am now bound.

I look over the bow and I see that the ship we are approaching is familiar—it is the Pearl. A sense of dread fills me. I swallow hard and half hope that Elizabeth happens to be on board, while simultaneously hoping that if she is on board, it is not she who lay dying. I greet Jack as I come onto the ship, and he guides me below decks to where Cotton lay, breathing shallowly. I am saddened that it is his time to pass on, and I become choked up as I ask him if he fears death. His faithful parrot is perched at his bedside. When I ask if he is willing to serve me until he is ready to cross over, the parrot answers for him as he always does. Cotton stands, ready to join my crew. Jack catches my eye and opens his mouth as if there is something he wants to tell me.

I ask him about Elizabeth, as I have wanted to do for so long. He looks away quickly, and I am immediately filled with a sense of dread for the second time in less than an hour. I ask him again if she is all right and he hesitates. I cannot hear bad news but deep down, I must know the truth. He looks around the room before meeting my eyes and tells me in a pained voice that she is well. I sigh with relief, but still feel unsettled at his demeanor. He takes in a deep breath and tells me that she was on the Pearl less than an hour ago. The place where my heart should be feels emptier than it has in the past six years as I realize that she must be close to me, and yet far enough away that I cannot see her.

According to Calypso, I cannot see her even by chance. If she had been aboard the ship, it may have ruined our chances at a life together after my sentence. At this moment in time, however, I would give up anything to be able to hold her, even if it were just for a moment. Jack looks at me apologetically, and in his grandiose way he tells me that it should be a comfort to me to know that she is alive and well. I nod slightly and I realize that I should not consider myself worse off than before. Though I was earlier contemplating my lack of need for sleep, I suddenly feel exhausted. My shoulders slump and I say farewell to Jack, telling him that it does me good to see him well. He gives me a knowing look, and I know he will keep an eye on Elizabeth until I can return.

I help Cotton aboard the Dutchman and say farewell to Barbossa and the rest of the crew aboard the Pearl. As we begin to sail away from them, I hear it.

It is faint, but it is there. I hear her voice. Only this time, I know that it is not a figment of my imagination; I am not willing it into existence. She is still near. She is calling my name.

I look to my right and I see her ship in the distance, sailing towards me as quickly as she can. I desperately want to see her, to jump off of my ship and swim to hers so that I can hold her. She continues to scream my name and I can hear the hysteria and desperation in her voice. She is trying to reach me but I realize that it cannot be. I do not want to ruin our chance. I order the ship to dive, feeling as though I am losing my heart all over again. I can hear her screaming for me to wait, but I cannot. I want her to know that I hear her, though. I call out her name as loudly as I can, and I yell to her that I love her, hoping that she hears me. Then I am plunged beneath the waves and into darkness.

As we cross over into the dawn, I am feeling both empty and renewed at the day's events. I have heard her voice and I know that she is alive. Her reaction to me proves to me that she is still waiting for me, that she still loves me. That is a comforting notion that will help me get through the next four years. However, I still wish to be able to comfort her. I hate seeing her in pain and I have always been willing to do whatever it takes to soothe her. My father, who has witnessed everything, knows to give me my space. He takes the wheel and I go to my cabin, where I think about what Elizabeth must be feeling right now. She tries so hard to be strong all the time, but I know her better than she knows herself. If she is still the woman I know her to be, she will save face until she is alone in her cabin. That is when she will allow herself to succumb to her emotions.

I remember that comforting her helped us to the path of reconciliation after the journey to the locker. It was a horrible circumstance, but she was able to take comfort in me and I appreciated and revered the fact that I was able to soothe her.

We were on the Pearl, on our way back to the world of the living. Night had fallen, and Elizabeth and I had not spoken since our encounter below deck. I was still attempting to sort out my thoughts and emotions about the last month, but I was slightly comforted knowing that she did not love Jack. Deep down, I had always known that she did not, but seeing the look in her eyes as she realized I had considered that she did soothed me. She did not love him, she was just ridden with guilt about leaving him to his death. I was still feeling distanced from her as my resolve to rescue my father strengthened, but I no longer resented her.

As we all paced around the deck that night, we began to see what appeared to be ghosts floating in the water. Tia Dalma lamented that they are souls that should be in the care of Davy Jones, who had obviously been neglecting his duty. Then came the people in boats. It filled me with sadness to see so many, both young and old, floating into oblivion. I knew that they were not a threat to us, and Tia Dalma confirmed it by telling me that we were nothing but ghosts to them.

Suddenly, I heard Elizabeth cry out. She had seen her father in one of the boats. She grew excited, thinking that we were back. She began to call out to him, but Jack stopped her by telling her gently that we were not back. She looked back out at her father, calling him again, and he finally turned in our direction. He acknowledged her and asked if she was dead. When she told him no, he said that he thought he was. She refused to believe it, but he went on to say that he had learnt a great deal about a chest that contained the heart of Davy Jones. He said that whoever stabbed the heart of Davy Jones would be forced to take his place—that the Dutchman must have a captain. As I watched the display in horror, I felt Tia Dalma's presence near me. I turned to her and, for the second time, she told me that I had a touch of destiny about me. I did not understand what she meant at the time, but now I know that it has always been my destiny to be the captain of the Flying Dutchman.

I looked to Elizabeth, who was desperately begging her father to come aboard the ship with us. She threw a line out to him, but he did not take it. He told Elizabeth that he was proud of her, but it was if he was talking to someone who was not really there. As he began to sail further away from us, her cries became more desperate and she ran to the bow of the ship. Tia Dalma shouted that Elizabeth must not leave the ship, and I ran as fast as I could to stop her from doing anything rash. I faintly heard her father say that he would give Elizabeth's love to her mother as he turned away. She was screaming that she would not let him die when I finally reached her. I pulled her away from the bow, calling her name and pulling her to me. She struggled momentarily and I tightened my grasp, pulling her into a strong embrace. I felt her heaving with sobs as her arms wrapped around me, clinging to me as if she could lose me, too. I had longed to hold her like that for weeks, but that was not the situation I had imagined.

As I slowly rocked her back and forth, I asked Tia Dalma if there was a way we could save Elizabeth's father. She shook her head sadly and said that he was at peace. The crew bowed their heads out of respect for Elizabeth, and they silently went back to their posts. When Elizabeth's sobs subsided, I wrapped her arms around my neck and swept her up into my arms. Her tiny frame felt horribly light in my grasp, and I realized that she had not been eating enough on our journey. I carried her down to her cabin and laid her down gently. I did not have any words to say that could comfort her, so I sat by her bed until her eyes closed and I saw her body relax. I turned to leave, but as I reached the door I heard her call my name in a voice barely above a whisper. I turned back to her and asked her if there was anything I could do. I saw her eyes fill with fresh tears as she slowly shook her head.

She blinked, allowing the tears to fall down her cheeks. I rushed to her and got down on my knees beside the bed. I took her hands in mine and she looked at our intertwined fingers. She looked around and noted that the first time I took her hands like this was in a cabin much like this one, when I was bandaging her hand. I was overcome with emotion; it seemed so long ago that we were in Port Royal planning our wedding. I let go of her hands and ran a finger down the side of her face. I told her that I would always be there for her whenever she needed me. She nodded and understood why I could not bring myself to say more. I did not want to take advantage of her pain, I wanted only to comfort her. I told her to get some sleep if she could, and that I would be on deck if she needed anything. She nodded yet again, and closed her eyes. I blew out the lantern in the cabin and turned to see her sleeping form in the moonlight.

I sat on the staircase for the entire night, watching her sleep. It was the same staircase that she had been sitting on when we argued just hours before. The same room in which I told her I could no longer trust her. I remember feeling my heart twist at the cruelty in my tone, and I swore to myself at that moment that one day, I would make things right between us. Once I saved my father, I would finally be able to begin my life with Elizabeth. As I watched her sleep, I worried that the only way to save my father would be to make myself the captain of the Dutchman. I knew that would tear me away from Elizabeth for ten years at a time, but I had sworn an oath to my father and until I could find a better alternative, I had no choice.

But, for that night at least, I could take comfort in knowing that I had comforted her in my own way. I realized that night that no matter how angry I may be at her, I would love her until the day I die. One day, I would be able to apologize for all of the deceit I was caught up in. I did not know where my alliances lay at that moment because I was in the middle of so many deals—with Barbossa, Jack, Beckett, and even Sao Feng. I was working for myself at that time, but I could not let her know it. I felt like a hypocrite, having criticized her earlier for making her own decisions without informing me of them. However, I knew that I had no choice. She bore a burden by herself, and now it was my turn to do the same. One day, though, I would tell her everything. One day, we would be able to be together—without lies or deception. One day, I would not have to wait for a tragedy to bring us back together.


	7. 7 Years

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I just borrow them for fun sometimes!

_Elizabeth Turner & William Turner III_

_Tortuga_

The past year has been the most challenging of them all. It has taken every ounce of strength within me to keep from dwelling on what could have happened last year. I cannot spend my time worrying about it and I try to tell myself that it was for the best. I only half-heartedly believe it, but it is all I can cling to. Had I seen him, had I taken the opportunity to hold him and kiss him, all could have been lost. I do not want to test Calypso's wrath, though there are several nights where I lie awake alone and think that I would risk anything to feel Will next to me for just a moment. Three years from today, I will not have to wonder anymore. In a few short years, we will finally be together forever.

Our latest venture on the Empress helped William to mature immensely over the past few months. He is a boy of six with the mind of someone twice his age. Our experience one year ago today taught him that his mother was human and could be hurt. He has since then become extremely protective of me—just like his father has always been. I smile at his persistence, though I know that I honestly do not need protecting. After all, I am Elizabeth Swann Turner, Pirate Lord of Singapore and the first reigning Pirate King since the first Brethren Court. I know a thing or two about keeping my wits about me.

Coming back to Tortuga was harder this year than it has ever been before. I belong on the sea, and William has shown me that he does as well. He has spent his childhood amongst pirates, listening to their tall tales and growing more restless upon land each day. They have taught him a great deal about their lifestyle and he wants nothing more than to join them on the great Spanish Main. He always gets a rise when they refer to Will Turner's locker—the name has gradually come to be commonplace over the past seven years. However, it is not a place that is feared as it once was. Captain Will Turner has created an aura of comfort around the notion of death. He is not a captain that press-gangs anyone into his crew. He simply offers another alternative for as long as someone needs it.

As William plays in our small backyard with his friends, I subconsciously grab the large key that I wear under my bodice at all times. In living amongst pirates, my story is well known. I do not have to hide the key because everyone knows what it unlocks. However, I must keep the chest hidden in a place where no one could find it. While I have the respect of the majority of the villagers, being Pirate King comes with the territory of possible threats. I promised to keep Will's heart safe with me, and I refuse to leave the chest in a place where it could be stolen and used against me as leverage.

As I call William inside for dinner, I steel myself for the conversation we are about to have. I have been struggling for months about when the time would come to tell him about the chest. After what happened last year, I cannot put it off any longer. William knows some details about his father's curse, but I have not disclosed all of the information because I knew he was not old enough to understand. When we are at sea with the crew or spending time with Jack, they know to keep mum on those details until I am ready to talk to him about it. That night is tonight.

We sit down at the table and, after asking him if he has had a fun afternoon with his friends, I gently ask him to tell me everything he knows about his papa. He looks confused at first, but I want to know how much he truly is aware of. He gets really excited and tells me that his papa is the best pirate in the whole world and he has a very important job that keeps him on a ship all the time. He says that he also knows that there is something important about the chest that I take with us on our voyages because I hide it when we are at home. He pauses to take a breath and continues that he must wait patiently until he is nine years old to meet him and that he must be a very good boy so that his father will love him.

I stop him by holding up my right hand. I then take his tiny hands in my own and tell him that his father will love him no matter what.

"Even if I don't make my bed in the morning…?"

I laugh and say that yes, even if he does not make his bed in the morning. I take a deep breath and tell him that it is time to tell him the whole story about his father because he is a big boy now and is ready to hear it. I explain to him that the story I'm about to tell him is a grown-up story that he must keep a secret. I rarely speak so sternly to him and by the look in his eyes I know he is taking me seriously.

He nods slowly, his eyes wide. He turns his little body to face me completely and then climbs into my lap. I note how big he is getting—taller by the day and looking just like his papa. This makes him smile and he begs to me to tell him the story.

I tell him that everything he knows about his papa is true, but that there many details that he is unaware of. I calmly begin by telling him about Davy Jones and his charge of ferrying the souls of those who died at sea. I lead him away from the table and take him to my special hiding place—in a large chest at the foot of my bed, under a false bottom. William reverently sits on my bed and I sit next to him, delicately placing the chest between us. I tell him that papa's job is important because he has taken Davy Jones' place as the captain of the Flying Dutchman. Papa cannot come home to us yet because he must spend ten years taking care of the people who die on the sea. He asks me if that is what happened to Master Cotton last year and I nod. His eyes immediately widen as he understands.

"That's why you got so upset—Papa was coming to take care of Master Cotton!"

Tears fill my eyes as I nod again and tell him that while I wanted him to meet his papa last summer, it was best for us that we wait a bit longer because we don't want to distract papa from his job. If we distract him, I tell him, then he may not be able to come back to us.

He nods in understanding and asks why the chest is so important. I smile and look down at the chest sitting between us. I tell him that Davy Jones had fallen in love with a woman who did not wait for him for the ten years he was on the sea and, when he realized she was not there he cut out his heart and put it in a chest. William looked up at me with horror in his eyes and scrambled away from the chest.

"You mean that you carry about a scary man's heart in a chest?"

I calm him down and tell him quickly that no, Davy Jones' heart is no longer in the chest. After explaining that the only way to defeat Jones was to stab his heart, I tell him more detail about his grandfather and what his Papa went through to save him. My voice breaks as I tell him about Davy Jones stabbing Will in the heart in the midst of that rainy battle. I have told William the story of that battle many times before, telling him about his father and I being married by Barbossa and then his father and Jack defeating the East India Trading Company. I have always led him to believe that his father chose his important job in the middle of the battle and that it was the only way to save all of the pirates from the evil Lord Beckett. This is the first time I tell him that his father did not choose his job, but that he almost died and Uncle Jack saved his life by allowing him to stab the heart of Davy Jones. The ship must have a captain and must have a living heart, I tell him.

I then tell him that the last time I saw his father was on a beach just after our wedding, right before he set sail for his decade-long duty. After the Davy Jones' heart was stabbed, I gently say, Papa's had to take its place. I then gesture to the chest and see William's eyes grow wider still.

He slowly looks down at the chest and leans close to it, softly placing his ear to it as I have done so many times. I see his eyes fill with tears and he looks up at me, trying to comprehend all that I have told him.

"This…this is Papa's heart? I can hear it, it's still beating in there!"

I cannot hold back the tears as I nod in affirmation. I tell him that it has been my job to keep his Papa's heart safe until he returns to us, which is why I have to hide it from everyone. William nods again slowly, and takes a deep breath.

He leans over the chest and wraps his tiny arms around my neck in a hug. I hug him back and tell him that I love him more than anything in the world and that his father will be so proud of the young man he is becoming. I then tell him that is has been a long night and it is time to go to bed. As we get up off my bed, he leans over to the chest and wraps his arms around it.

"Goodnight, Papa. I'll see you soon!"

He leaves the room and I am left shocked and glowing with pride at our son. I tuck him into bed and whisper in his ear that I love him and in three years, his papa and I will be able to tuck him in together. He smiles sleepily and tells me that he can't wait before he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

I walk back to my room and lay in my bed, sliding the chest over to myself and hugging my body around it. I listen to the gentle thump and know that I have done the right thing. William may be only six years old, but he is a brilliant little boy who loves and admires his father very much.

My mind is spinning at the day's events, and I remember another time where my mind and emotions were out of control. It was just after my father died and we returned from the locker. Will and I were still barely speaking, but we seemed to be headed towards reconciliation. I knew that I loved him, and that he loved me. We were speaking more but we had not brought up whether we were still going to get married—I did not want to push him after I had hurt him so badly.

Will was left in charge of the Pearl while Jack and Barbossa went ashore to re-supply for the voyage to Shipwreck Cove. As he walked around the deck, I came up next to him and began to pace around with him. I thanked him softly for the night before and he wrapped me in a hug without a word. He said that he wished there was more he could do for me, and I told him that he was all I needed. I was about to tell him that I wanted to make things right between us but I was interrupted by shouts from overboard. I looked over the railing and saw Sao Feng quickly approaching the Pearl. I was confused and looked to Will, whose jaw was set with resolve—almost like he knew what was happening.

He helped Sao Feng and his crew board the Pearl, and I had had enough experience with pirates to know what was going on, though I could scarcely believe it. Gibbs ran over to Will and asked him what was going on, and Will said that he had made arrangements with Sao Feng to claim the Pearl as his own so he could search for the Flying Dutchman.

I had no reaction because I could not believe the words were coming out of Will's mouth. The man that I thought I knew, the man I was in love with, was actually leading a mutiny against the crew of the Pearl, against us…against me. Sao Feng's crew quickly surrounded us and greeted Will as a worthy adversary. I screamed at Will, still unable to believe what I was seeing, and he averted his eyes, unable to look at me. He mumbled something about doing whatever it took to rescue his father. I was seething. I was distraught. I was confused. I had no idea what had happened to Will over the past month and while I blamed him for his actions, I blamed myself for not expecting it. I should know him better than anyone, and I did not know how hurt I had truly hurt him until that moment. I also realized that it was not all about me—he was fulfilling his sense of duty in the only way he knew how. That was Will. He made a decision and he did whatever it took to accomplish his goals. His determination saved me from Barbossa and the cursed treasure, it allowed us to rise above class differences and proclaim our love for each other, and it kept us both alive while the Kracken attacked us. I had forgotten the strength of Will's determination, the very thing that had drawn me to him in the first place.

I should have seen it coming. I should have been able to talk to him, to convince him that we should figure out a way to save his father together—that he did not have to go through it alone. Then I realized the hypocrisy of my thoughts. I understood why he was so angry with me the day before, when he told me he could not trust me because I made my decisions alone.

My suspicions were confirmed once Jack and Barbossa climbed back aboard and discovered the situation at hand. When I finally found my voice and asked him why he was doing all of this, Will turned to me and said that it was his burden to bear. I felt completely lost. I thought that we were finally getting back on track but at that moment, I had no idea what to think or feel.

I still loved him, to be sure, but he had never hurt me like that before. I thought that he was the one person in the world that would never hurt me. I made the rash decision to go with Sao Feng to save us all because Will's plan was beginning to crumble. He did not want me to go, but I was so angry with him at that moment that I did not care. He had hurt me and I wanted him to feel the pain I was feeling.

As I shoved him away from me, telling him that I had had more than my fair share of dealing with pirates, I saw the pain and frustration in his eyes. I wanted him more than anything but I was beginning to wonder if we were just too stubborn for each other. I took one last look at him before I left, and I saw the worry in his face. Through my own anger, I softened my gaze and gave him a short nod to let him know that I could take care of myself, that I would see him again soon. He took a deep breath, nodded back to me, and finally looked away.

As I was taken down into Sao Feng's cabin, I was unsure of what he had planned for me. I did not know that that night, I was to be named a Pirate lord. I did not know that in mere hours, I would be placed in the brig of the Dutchman, finally speak to Will's father, and be saved by James Norrington. I learned that night that Will was planning on taking Davy Jones' place aboard the Dutchman. I feared that his determination would lead to our separation and I knew that one day soon I would have to convince him to find another way. One day, I would tell him that we could use our determination to save his father together rather than alone. One day I would finally get over my stubborn pride and tell him that I needed him more than anyone or anything. One day, things would be less complicated.

_Captain William Turner_

_The Flying Dutchman_

A storm is brewing on the horizon. I am looking out from my place at the helm, lost in my thoughts. I order the crew to lower the sails and my father approaches me, asking if there is anything else that needs to be done. I give him a small smile and say that he is relieved for the evening.

While I was growing up, both in England and Port Royal, I idealized my father because I hardly knew him. My mother had told me countless stories about how he was a merchant sailor on the high seas, providing people with goods to trade and visiting exotic lands. I came to the Caribbean to find him, but fate had different plans for me. I met Elizabeth and her father helped me acquire an apprenticeship with Mr. Brown, the local blacksmith. As the years passed, I realized that my place was in Port Royal and I concluded that because my father had not come for me yet, he had probably passed away. Once I learned of his true life as a pirate and his fate at the hands of Barbossa, I had to learn to come to grips with my rots. I knew that my father had been a pirate but that he was also a good man.

When I discovered that he was alive aboard the Flying Dutchman, it quickly became my obsession to rescue him. When I became the ship's captain, I was honored that he chose to stay with me as first mate. I have spent the last seven years learning about the father I never knew while I was growing up.

We have spent every day telling each other stories and I have learned that he and I are more alike than I could have imagined. We are both very stubborn and have strong abilities when it comes to the sword. We have grown to read each other's moods very easily, and I know that he regrets not being there for me as I grew up. I wonder for the thousandth time what it will be like to be a father one day and I realize that in three years, Elizabeth and I will finally have our chance to start a family.

I remember the moment that I realized that Elizabeth and I were going to be together forever, come Hell or high water. We had been tangled in a web of deceit for far too long aboard the Pearl, the Dutchman, and the Endeavour. While our loyalties to others were up in the air, I realized that our loyalties to each other had never wavered. We had been angry with each other, hurt by each other, and frustrated that we could not make sense of the world around us. I had been worried that I could not trust her, and I knew that I had worried her as well.

I was relieved to see her at the parlay before the battle, and I knew right away that there was a plan much bigger than the two of us when I met her eyes on that beach. I was able to read her emotions and knew to agree with whatever she offered. I could not hide my shock when she referred to herself as the King of the Brethren court, but I swelled with pride immediately. If I did not realize it before, I knew at that moment that she could indeed handle herself. As we walked back to the dingy with Barbossa and I commented that Jack might actually know what he was doing, I saw it. The sly, knowing smile that I had not seen in weeks. Though I was suppressing fear of the battle that we had yet to fight, I took comfort in that smile as I had so many times before.

Once we realized that Barbossa's plan to free Calypso was going to backfire, we faced a horrible uprising from the crew. They knew that it was going to be nearly impossible for us to win. Elizabeth quickly took charge and screamed for everyone to listen to her. All hands on deck were captured by her presence and had no choice but to hang on her every word.

I cannot remember the exact words of her speech to this day. I can only remember how she made me feel at that very moment—a feeling that I know I will never forget. She mesmerized me. She spoke of showing everyone—both pirate and enemy alike—what we could do by staying the course. She told us all to take our place aboard the Pearl as the flagship of the surrounding ships and take that place proudly. As she told asked us, almost reverently, to hoist the colors, I knew in that moment that I wanted to marry her as soon as possible. The previous weeks immediately seemed futile, and I knew that I would never love another as much as I loved Elizabeth Swann. I did not want to waste another moment apart from her.

As the storm and the battle raged around us, I asked her to marry me. We were married by Barbossa in midst of flashing swords and falling bodies, and I could not see or hear anyone but her. We had to interrupt our vows several times to fight off the enemy, but it did not matter—I kept coming back to her. Our battle was not only against the crew of the Dutchman, but against the world as well. We fought off the elements and became man and wife in a waltz that would put any other to shame.

At that moment, the past did not matter anymore. At that moment, I knew that I no longer had to wonder what it would feel like to be married to the woman of my dreams. As we finally came together to seal our vows with a kiss, I knew that I was exactly where I needed to be.

The kiss was fierce and passionate, showing our love for each other, apologizing for everything that had happened between us, and filling us with hope for our future. At that moment, nothing else mattered. One day I would take the time to sort out everything that had brought me to that moment. But in that kiss, I did not care about the past or the future. One day, it would make sense to me. One day I would be able to take it all in. One day, I would be able to fully understand what it felt like to be Elizabeth Turner's husband.


	8. William's Interlude

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I just borrow them for fun sometimes.

A/N: I thought it might be nice to break up the story pattern a bit, for fear of monotony…and in the midst of writing the previous chapter, I realized I just couldn't help but write this one. Hope you enjoy!

William's Interlude

William Turner III knew that he should be asleep, but there was no way on earth he could sleep after the story his mother had told him a few short hours before. He had closed his eyes when she tucked him in and pretended to go to sleep. He stared at the space under his door for what seemed like hours before he saw the lights in the hallway dim. He softly climbed out of his bed and went over to his small desk in the corner, lighting a lantern before he sat down.

He had an idea. He knew it was probably an impossible thought, but he knew that he needed to try. He wrote diligently for the next hour, until his small candle was almost gone. He was careful to write slowly, making his writing as smooth and readable as possible. When he was finished, he took a deep breath, knowing that the trickiest part of his task was yet to come.

He dusted the parchment to dry the ink, rolling it up carefully and tying it with a small piece of thread. He opened his bedroom door as painfully slow as possible, knowing that his mother was a light sleeper. Sure enough, as he peered out of his room he saw that her bedroom door was open so that she could hear him if he needed her. Unfortunately, the only way to the staircase was past her doorway. Taking care to avoid the floorboards that he knew tended to creak, he crept slowly down the hallway. He heard his mother shift in her bed and he froze mid-step. He peeked into her room and sighed with relief when he realized that she was still asleep.

He went down the stairs and into the small kitchen, where he found an empty bottle and cork in the bin. He slid out the back door and went to the well in the backyard, where he filled the bucket with water and carefully washed the bottle out. He dried it with his nightshift and walked out to the bluff. He looked out at the moon as it reflected against the waves of the ocean. He walked down the path he walked with his mother every day to the water's edge.

He took a moment to remove the piece of eight he had been wearing around his neck for over a year. His mother had given it to him after she told him the story of the Brethren Court for the first time. She had told him about the legendary pieces of eight and what they stood for. He replied that he wanted to be a pirate lord when he grew up, and she had laughed and told him she would certainly pass her title on to him when he was old enough. In the meantime, she had given him a piece of eight to wear around his neck for fun until she officially named him the heir to her lordship.

He placed the necklace in the bottle and then carefully stuck the rolled up parchment in as well. He tightly corked it, closed his eyes, and threw the bottle into the ocean with all of his might. He stood with his feet in the surf for a few minutes as he watched the bottle float away in the moonlight. He went back to the house and crept up to his room as quietly as before. As he finally succumbed to exhaustion, he closed his eyes and hoped that the bottle would find its way to its recipient.

Captain William Turner looked over the bow of the Flying Dutchman as the sun set below the horizon. He knew that in less than three years, he would be able to watch sunsets with his wife. It had been a particularly hard day for him. It was another bad hurricane season, so there were many souls that needed to be cared for. He was exhausted, and decided that he needed to take some time in his cabin for himself.

He asked his father to take the his place at the wheel and began to walk below deck. An odd sensation came over him, however, and he felt compelled to look overboard. Sure enough, there was a small bottle floating amongst the waves. It took some time, but he was finally able to retrieve the bottle and bring it on board. He looked around, feeling somewhat worried that he was reading a letter meant for someone else. He shrugged and uncorked the tightly sealed bottle and removed the parchment along with a piece of twine that held a piece of eight.

He unrolled the parchment and began to pace the deck as he read. He immediately knew it was a young child's handwriting, and the greeting caused him to stop in his tracks. Written across the top of the parchment was his name—the letter was meant for him. Before he had a moment to wonder why a child would be writing to him, his eyes betrayed his thought process and began to read quickly without comprehension.

_To: William Turner, the Captain of the Flying Dutchman_

_Dear Papa, _

Will felt his knees buckle beneath him. Papa?

_I don't know if it is possible that this will reach you, I know that you are very busy. I wanted to take the chance, though, because I know that you do not know about me yet. I am your son and I know that mama wants you to know about me but she cannot talk to you because of your duty._

_I want to tell you a little about myself because I know that this letter may scare you. I promise, Papa, I am not a scary person. I am six years old, I will be seven in a few months. Mama tells me all the time that I look just like you. I have brown hair and brown eyes. The boys that I play with make fun of me because I am skinny, but they stop when they realize that I am very quick and, as mama says, agile. I am still not sure what that word means, but she smiles when she says it, so I think it is a good thing. Anyway, I wanted to write to you because I feel like I know so much about you from mama's stories and I feel bad because you do not know about me yet. I know it hurts mama that she can't talk to you, but I think it will be ok with the goddess of the sea if I write to you. If it is not, then stop reading this! I want to be able to see you in a few years and I don't want you to get in trouble._

_If you are able to read this, then I want to tell you that I have heard about what a great pirate you are my whole life. Mama is great and takes very good care of me. Right now, we live in a small house outside of Tortuga. Lots of people say that Tortuga is not a good place for me to grow up, but I know they are wrong. I am very careful and I love being so close to the sea. Mama says that the sea is in my blood because you and her are both pirates. Every night she tells me a story about your adventures before I go to sleep. I know about the cursed gold and how you saved mama when she was kidnapped. I have heard about the scary Kracken and how you and mama fought in the big battle against the East India Trading Company. I can't wait to hear these stories again from you, papa. Mama is a great storyteller, but I want to hear your side, too!_

_Every other year, we go sailing on mama's ship for nearly a whole year because she said she wants me to grow up on the sea. I am learning how to sail from her crew and from mama herself—she is a great captain. I know how to help raise the sails and predict which way the wind will blow, and sometimes she lets me help her hold the wheel. I want to grow up to be a great pirate, just like you. _

_It is late at night right now, mama thinks that I am asleep. She would probably be mad at me if she knew that I was awake, but I couldn't sleep. I can't sleep because I have so many thoughts bouncing in my head right now. Mama told me that today is the seventh anniversary, that she hasn't seen you in seven whole years. She also finally told me about the chest. Don't worry, Papa, she keeps it really safe. The only times I have ever seen it are when she carries it on the Empress when we go on our trips. Tonight, she showed me her special hiding place and told me what is inside of it. She let me put my ear up to it and I heard your heart beating inside. It made me feel like you were with me and it made me happy. _

_I miss you, papa, and I can't wait to meet you. I can't wait to tell you all my stories and hear about your adventures with grandpa on the Flying Dutchman. I know that you have a very important job and I know that you are doing the best you can before you can come home to us._

_I also want to tell you that I am doing my best to take care of mama until you can come back. I know that she misses you so much that it hurts her sometimes. I can hear her calling for you in her sleep, and whenever she tells me about you, her eyes get sparkly and happy and she always tells me that she loves you very much. She told me about how you met and how you are her hero. I don't let her tell me the mushy stories, though, papa. Those are not exciting like the pirate stories. She always tells me that one day I won't mind lovey things, but for now I just like to hear about how you and Uncle Jack outwitted Lord Beckett._

_I have gotten to meet Uncle Jack a few times, papa. He is very funny and he tells me that I am just like you, too. Everybody says so. He tells me stories about the two of you and says that he has saved you from a lot of scary situations. Between you and me, papa, sometimes I think Uncle Jack exaggerates a little bit. But it's ok, I really like spending time with him and visiting the crew on the Pearl. _

_I was there last year, when we almost got to see you. It was on one of our voyages on the Empress, right after we visited Singapore so that mama could meet with some of the pirates there. She is the pirate lord of Singapore! Anyways, I got to see Uncle Jack and Master Cotton before he came to your ship. Poor mama was so sad when we did not get to see you. I have never seen her cry like that. But don't worry, I gave her lots of hugs and made sure that she fell asleep that night. She told me that she misses you terribly, but she knows that it was probably for the best that we did not see you that day—we don't want to get you in trouble, after all._

_I have so much to say to you and I know that I cannot put everything down on paper right now because I would be up for days. I have to be up early for lessons tomorrow so I need to finish this soon. OH! That is something you do not know! Mama is a tutor now! She teaches me and some of the other kids that are growing up here. She is a really good teacher, but sometimes she doesn't let us play outside long enough._

_I just wanted to make sure that you know we are waiting for you every day and that we are keeping your heart safe. Mama keeps the key to the chest around her neck all the time, and she has made me promise not to tell anybody our secret. I am a good secret-keeper, so don't worry! _

_I also wanted to give you something. Since mama and I are working so hard to keep your heart safe, it is only fair that you keep something safe until I can see you. I put a necklace in here for you. It is a piece of eight that mama gave me when she told me the story about the Brethren Court and how they bound Calypso in human form so many years ago. She gave me the piece of eight to wear around my neck and promised that when I am old enough, she will make me the next lord of Singapore. Isn't that exciting, papa? I get to be a pirate just like you! I am sending it to you because I am afraid that I will lose it before I am old enough. Can you keep it safe for me? I'll feel a lot better because when I see you I will be nine—then I will be grown up enough to take care of it._

_I hope that I have not scared you by writing you this letter. I know that you did not know about me and I hope that you are happy that you know now. I don't want you to be sad that you did not know about me, and I want you to know that I understand that you are doing your duty and that you would be here if you could be. I love you very much—you are my hero and I can't wait to meet you. I can't wait for you to teach me how to fight with a sword (mama says I'm not old enough just yet) and I can't wait until you can help mama tuck me in at night. I can't wait to find out for myself if I really DO look just like you._

_I know that you are working hard, Papa. I am very proud of you, and I know mama is, too. We want you to be proud of us, too, so we are working hard to get ready for your return. We miss you and we are counting down the days until we can see you!_

_See you soon, papa. I love you._

_Your son,_

_William Turner III_

As Will finished the letter, he realized that he had tears streaming down his face. He had a son. Not only a son, but a brilliant boy who was able to send him a letter and tell him everything he needed to hear at that moment. He no longer had to wonder what it felt like to be a father.

While he felt horrible that he had missed out on so much and would not be able to meet his son for another two and a half years, he also felt elated that he had a family waiting for him.

He put the piece of eight around his neck and stowed the letter in his pocket. He looked at the rising moon and felt a sense of contentment he had not felt in years. He placed his hand over the necklace and sighed, knowing he would keep it safe until he saw William and Elizabeth.

As the Flying Dutchman sailed through the night, Captain William Turner knew that he could make it through the next few years.

"See you soon, son. I love you, too."


	9. 8 Years

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I just borrow them for fun sometimes

A/N: We're in the home stretch, right along with Will and Elizabeth! I promise, I'm working really hard on the last couple of chapters, because we all know that the reunion is the whole point of the story! Thanks for all the reviews, they really do make my day! 

_Elizabeth Turner & William Turner III_

_The Empress_

Eight years have come and gone. I am in a surprisingly good mood today because I realize that we only have to wait two more years. While two years is hardly a short amount of time, it is much closer than when I began this countdown.

William is seven now, and he has shown me that not only does he look like his father; he acts just like him as well. He has inherited our stubborn streak and my knack for finding mischief, but he has his father's overwhelming sense of duty, loyalty, and compassion. He will grow up to be a fine man, and I know that Will is going to be proud of him just like I am.

We are aboard the Empress and we have set sail to head home for Tortuga. It has been another fine year on the sea, and William has become more of a member of the crew than ever before. He was so excited when I let him stand at the helm for a few moments. I saw the glimmer of adventure shining in his eyes, and I knew at that moment that he is going to be a man of the sea as soon as he is old enough.

I am looking out to the horizon as the sun rises. It was my turn to stay at the helm for the night, and I am exhausted. My first mate comes to relieve me of my duties, nodding that I can take time and rest if I need it. I smile and thank him before I head down to my cabin. I look over at my son, who is sleeping soundly in his bed. He is on his back, with one arm draped over his eyes, his mouth open and snoring loudly. I shake my head and laugh softly as I climb into bed. Judging by the sunrise, I have about an hour's worth of rest before he wakes.

I am suddenly plagued with so many thoughts that it is impossible to sleep. I know that if I have made it thus far, I can make it the next two years. Though I remember every moment with Will leading up to that fateful day, there is one memory that I usually cannot bear to let cross my mind for some reason. My exhaustion takes hold of me, and I cannot sustain my mental barriers any longer. My mind begins to drift back to that last journey—the journey to the small beach where I would be forced to say goodbye.

I remember being determined to ignore the cries of my aching body and the need for sleep after such a horrible ordeal. It had been the longest day of my life to that point, but I had one more duty to fulfill. As I looked across the sea to the Flying Dutchman, I saw my husband looking back at me.

I realized at that moment that life is intolerably cruel sometimes, but that we were also granted a second chance that must not be taken for granted. As I turned from Will, Gibbs informed me that the dingy was ready and that the oars were inside. I noticed that the crew had formed a line to the small boat, and as I walked past them in turn, they all said their farewells. I could hardly hide my smile when Barbossa called me Mrs. Turner. I remembered so long before when I had given Barbossa that name aboard that very ship, both for my safety and because I wanted to know what it sounded like. Now, it was finally my name. When I reached Jack, I knew that I must say something to him. He had done so much for Will and I over the past two years, I knew that I needed to thank him.

I could not resist recalling the words he said to me long ago; that it would never work out between us—and, given the circumstances of our last farewell, the statement was even more ironic. Even so, I know that Jack Sparrow is a man that I trust with my life and that will never change. He may be a drunken fool the majority of the time, but he is a good man with an even better heart.

I thanked him, knowing that words would never be enough. He had given up his dream of immortality for Will. For me. For us. While I knew the curse would be hard to endure, it was nothing compared to what would have become of us otherwise. Jack had proven to me that day that he had the ability to put others before himself, and I would be indebted to him for the rest of my life. I made a move to hug him, but he had to have the last word and made as if I had been trying to kiss him, telling me that once was quite enough. I smiled and then climbed aboard the dingy.

The journey to the beach where I was to meet Will was not a long one, but it was long enough. I tried to wrap my head around the hour's events so that I would not have to waste any time once I was with Will. I knew that we would only have twenty-four hours together and I did not want to waste a moment.

As I rowed myself towards the beach, I thought about our childhood. I remembered the day that we found him floating on a piece of debris. Calypso spared him that day—after all, he was touched by destiny. If only destiny had not chosen such a cruel fate for him. I thought about growing up with him in Port Royal, sneaking down to the swimming hole while my father was on business—he would never have approved of us spending so much time together, as it was hardly proper. I thought about the day I came out as a member of society, how I was so overwhelmed by the whole notion that I ran out on my own ball, only to find Will had been peering through the window. He comforted me that night, and it was then that I knew I could not love another.

I thought about meeting Jack and Barbossa and the events that brought Will and I together. I tried to contemplate how that adventure led me to this very moment. Learning of Davy Jones' curse, attempting to outrun his vicious beast, and going to the very end of the world to bring Jack back—so much had happened in such a short amount of time, it was no wonder I could barely control my emotions.

Then I took a moment to realize that I was finally married. It was certainly not reminiscent of the wedding we planned in Port Royal less than a year before. I smiled to myself as I remembered poor Will being caught up in the propriety of a public courtship, the choosing of the flowers and china, and the disastrous fitting for his wedding garments. He was so nervous that he would mess up and my father would rescind his blessing, that he graciously accepted my father's offer to wear the garments he wore at his wedding to my mother—though the garments were obviously too big. I was thankful that our wedding was different, and I would not have had it any other way.

I took a deep breath, remembering how happy it made me when Will told me that he had made his choice and that he wanted to marry me immediately. Once we sealed our vows, I felt invincible. It did not matter who I came across, I was in love and nothing would change that. My feeling of invincibility was quickly cut short when I crossed swords with Davy Jones himself. He quickly bested me and I vaguely recall being knocked out on the steps of the Dutchman. When I came to, I saw Will on the deck as well, Davy Jones' sword pointing down at him. We looked at each other, and the looks on our faces were not lost on the evil captain.

When Jack held up the heart of Davy Jones, I thought that everything was going to be all right. I shared a smile with Will, and we waited anxiously for Jack to stab the heart and finally end the battle aboard the Dutchman. Suddenly, Davy Jones plunged his sword into Will—right into his heart.

I could do nothing but gasp. I could not speak, I could not breathe; I could not hear anything but a horrible rushing in my ears. In my shock, I glanced at Jack, who looked just as shaken. As Davy Jones became distracted, I quickly crawled over to Will, whose eyes were beginning to glaze over. I barely managed to speak his name, and as he turned his head in my direction, I had to keep myself from breaking down completely.

I could see nothing but his face; I could hear nothing but his labored breathing. I gently touched his face, trying to get his eyes to focus on me. I begged him to look at me, to stay with me, but as he writhed in pain, I knew that it was all to no avail. I could feel him slipping away from me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I vaguely recall seeing Bootstrap Bill jumping on Davy Jones' back out of the corner of my eye, but I did not care. In that moment, there was only my husband. I remember that thought crossing my mind, breaking my heart in two. He had been my husband for less than an hour, and now he was dying. It was so cruel and unfair I could not begin to understand it.

Suddenly, Jack was crouching next to us. He looked at Will and then looked into my eyes. I knew what he was about to do, but in my hysteria I did not realize the sacrifice he was about to make for us. Jack gently picked up Will's hand and wrapped it around the hilt of his blade. He held the heart steady on the deck and helped Will plunge the blade into it. It was over. Davy Jones fell over the side of the Dutchman, lost forever to his own locker.

I did not know what would happen next. I somehow realized that Will should now be immortal, so he could not die. I expected him to heal instantly, but he continued to fade from me. His eyes looked into mine but did not focus. He took one last ragged breath, closed his eyes, and I felt his body relax beneath me.

That was not supposed to happen. He had stabbed the heart, he had won—he was not supposed to die. I screamed in protest, unwilling to accept defeat. I could not hold back my sobs as I frantically continued to hold his face, willing him to wake up. I did not care how long it took, I was not going to leave him there and let him die.

I felt Jack pulling me away from Will, and I screamed out that I would not leave him. Jack was much stronger than I was, and he told me to hold on as he shot some ropes loose and we pulled away from the Dutchman. I heard the crew chanting that Will was now part of the crew and part of the ship, but I knew it did not matter. I had seen him slip away, and I knew that there was no hope. As we boarded the Pearl, however, Jack's demeanor let everyone know that he had a plan. I numbly walked to the ship's railing, knowing that I had lost everything in one day.

Before I could fall into despair, however, I saw the Flying Dutchman emerge from the sea once more. Could it be possible? I saw the sea life fall off the ship, leaving it as it was in its most glorious days. It had to have a captain; was it possible that Will had survived?

Then I heard his voice order his crew to be ready on the guns. He had made it. He was alive. I could not hold back my smile and I felt my heart rise as I quickly took my post aboard the Pearl. We worked together with the Dutchman to overtake the Endeavour, and that had led me to the dingy I was floating in at that moment.

I knew that the hardest part was yet to come; that I was going to have to say goodbye to Will for ten long years. As I rowed to him, all I could think about was that we had been given a second chance at a life together. We would be able to endure ten years apart—as long as he was alive, I could fully live as well. We had been given the gift of one more day. One day to begin our lives together as husband and wife, one day to prove our love to each other, and one day to bask in the hope of sharing a life together. One day.

_Captain Will Turner_

_The Flying Dutchman_

The next two years cannot pass by fast enough for me. I am hopeful that Elizabeth is just as anxious as I am. Elizabeth…and William.

I do not think I will ever be able to grasp that concept. I am a father. It makes my head spin every time I repeat it to myself, as if I am trying to make it seem more real. I have read and reread the letter he sent countless times. The parchment is worn thin and the creases are permanently set because I have folded it so many times. The letter brings warmth to my heart and I swell with pride every time I read it.

The day that I received my son's letter was one of the best days of my life. After I read it for myself several times, I had to sit down for over an hour to try to wrap my head around what I had just learned. My father came over, seeing how pale I was, and inquired about my heath. I was unable to speak, so I just handed him the letter. He reacted much like I did as he paced around the deck. He froze mid-step and looked at me, eyes-wide. Once he was able to understand the situation, he yanked me from my spot on the deck and wrapped me in a strong embrace. He proceeded to call all hands to the deck and announced to the crew that the captain was a father, and that he, Bootstrap Bill, was a grandfather. The crew congratulated me, and I finally found my voice again.

It has taken me a long time to come to grips with my status as a parent, but now I find myself daydreaming about teaching him all about the sea and telling him the stories of my adventures from my point of view, just as he requested. I have always dreamed about being a father, and now that it is real I can hardly wait to get home—I did not think it was possible to miss home any more than I did previously, but I have since been proven wrong.

I unconsciously bring my hand to the necklace that I have been wearing for nearly a year—a necklace that my son asked me to keep safe for him. I keep it on me at all times, and in times of great stress or despair, I hold onto the small piece of eight as if to remind myself what is waiting for me at the end of this long trial. I now have a family to go home to, and that helps me get through even the toughest of days.

I also have fallen more in love with Elizabeth, if it is at all possible. She is so strong, and I can tell by William's letter that she has done a wonderful job raising our son on her own. While I regret that I cannot be there, I am so thankful that she is such a great mother, which does not come as a surprise to me. I cannot wait to return to her so that I can sweep her up into my arms and tell her how proud I am of her. She is more amazing than I can ever express, and I am so lucky to be her husband.

I cannot wait to be a true husband to her. I want to spend the rest of our lives telling her how much I love her and helping her in any way that I can. I would do anything for her, and she deserves the world. I never stop thinking about her, and today is no exception—especially as it marks only two years before we can finally reunite.

I make my way down to my cabin and pull out one of the many things I have been working on since I received William's letter last year. Any free moment I get, I begin to write out my stories in journal form in a large, worn leather book I found amongst Davy Jones' possessions when his cabin became my own. William told me that he wanted to hear all of my "adventures," and I do not wish to disappoint him—so I have decided to ensure that he receives a detailed account, one that I can read aloud to him or that he can read for himself whenever he wishes. It hardly makes up for missing the first nine years of his life, but I am hoping that he will like it.

Up to this point, I have written down several stories about my life in England as a boy, as well as my first encounter with pirates on the passage to Port Royal. The story of how I met Elizabeth is included, along with our adventures aboard the Pearl. I have taken great care to write out each story as specifically as possible, without leaving anything out. As I sit down to write more, I realize that I have reached a particularly difficult experience, but one that needs to be included.

I have to explain to my son how hard it is to say goodbye to the person you love most in the world. I know he will not understand it the first time he reads it, but it is a harsh lesson that must be learned at some point. I lean far back in my chair and stretch my arms out, ready to write. I take a deep breath and begin to contemplate the memory of that day, the day that I was cursed. The day that I realized I would have to say goodbye to Elizabeth.

I remember the fresh scar on my chest stinging painfully throughout the final stand against Beckett, but I had to push it from my mind. There were more important things to take care of. Once the Endeavour sank below the ocean's surface, I placed a hand to my chest and, for the first time, became aware of my heart's absence. I leaned over the railing of my new ship, fully realizing how lucky I was to be alive and simultaneously dreading the moment I knew would come soon.

My father offered to stay aboard the Dutchman with me, and I could not hide my smile at his request to pay his debt to me. He wanted to be the father he did not have the opportunity to be during my childhood. He then spoke of the heavy price of my curse, telling me that one day ashore for ten years at sea was hardly a just balance. I told him the only thing that came to my mind—the biggest lesson that I had learned over those past few years. I said that it depended on the one day.

One day can change everything. By God, I knew that much. One day, I was pining over the governor's daughter, knowing that she was completely out of my league. The next afternoon, I was on the Interceptor with one of the world's most notorious pirates on my way to rescue her. One day I was preparing to marry the love of my life and the next day, I was off on a mission to get her out of prison. One day I thought that I would never have to question Elizabeth's love for me, and the next afternoon I saw her kissing Jack Sparrow before leaving him to the Kraken.

One day can make all the difference. However, when it came to saying goodbye to Elizabeth Swann….Elizabeth _Turner_, I knew that one day would never be enough. On my way to the beach that day, I tried to think of everything I had not said to her yet. I wanted to make sure she knew that I would come back to her the very day that my ten-year duty was fulfilled. I wanted her to know just how much I loved her and how much I always would.

As I made my way onto the beach, I also became aware of how nervous I was. I knew that we were only given twenty four hours before I had to be back on the Flying Dutchman. We had been married that afternoon and we had only one day to make our marriage real. I had been dreaming of this for as long as I could remember, and it killed me that it was not going to be how I imagined it at all. I wanted Elizabeth to feel comfortable; I wanted us to be in a large and luxurious suite with candles. However, our wedding could hardly be considered conventional, so I assumed that our honeymoon should not be anything more than that. It was only fitting that two pirates who were married aboard the Black Pearl should share their wedding night on a secluded beach.

The saddest difference between my fantasy and our reality was that in my fantasy, our wedding night was only the beginning. It was to be the first night of the rest of our lives. In the harsh light of day, I knew that our honeymoon, this one night we had to share, was going to be a goodbye instead. A long goodbye and then a decade of separation. My father was right, it was truly a steep price to pay.

As I reached the shore of the beach, I saw Elizabeth pulling her small dingy up on the sand. She and I walked slowly to each other, and the moment was too emotional for us to bear. When we reached each other, I could do nothing more than pull her to me in a long, comforting embrace. I do not know how long we held each other, but we both knew that we had to make the most of our one day.

One day ashore, and ten years at sea. That one day was my wedding day, the day I was killed, and the day I was given a second chance at life. It was also the one day that I had been given to prove my love to my wife before I had to leave her. I was determined in that moment to give her everything we had both been waiting for since we had finally come together. I had one day with Elizabeth, and I did not waste a moment of it.


	10. 9 Years

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters; I just borrow them for fun sometimes!

_Elizabeth Turner & William Turner III_

_Tortuga_

If someone asked me nine years ago where I would be today, I probably would have collapsed into sobs and said that I did not think I would make it. A year later, I would have told you that it did not matter how I was, I had to take care of the precious gift that Will had left me. William is and always will be my greatest accomplishment.

I realize that I can now begin to count the days until I see Will again, something that I swore I would not do until it was less than a year. I have just finished tutoring the children for the day, and they are all out playing in our small backyard. William is now old enough to play unattended for a few moments—though not too long, with that mischievous streak of his—so I go to my bedroom and begin writing a letter.

Shortly after I moved to Tortuga, I got word from my father's lawyer regarding the exact amount of my inheritance as well as the details of my father's estate. When I returned to Port Royal nine years ago, I was in no condition to settle anything, and his staff was very understanding. I took only a portion of the money that my father gave me, leaving the rest of it with his lawyer, who promised to keep it in a hidden safe should I ever have need of it. I did not want to move to a port inhabited by pirates with any more money than absolutely necessary. I then allowed my father's manor to go to the next governor of Port Royal, knowing that I had no need for a house of such grandeur. I was never meant to be a girl of society, this I have always known.

I have put the money I acquired to good use these past nine years, but I have a need for the rest of it now. I have decided that once Will returns, we will move back to Port Royal and build a life for ourselves there. I am sure that Will will want to abandon piracy for some time after being bound to a ship for a decade, and William is always up for a new adventure. I am writing a letter to my father's lawyer to tell him that William and I will be in Port Royal some time next month to pick up the rest of the money so that we can begin to plan our move back to the city.

I finish my letter and place it in the post before I call William in for dinner. I have told him of my plans for our next great adventure, and he is excited about a new city and new places to explore. He is sad about leaving his friends here, but I have assured him that we will come and visit Tortuga frequently. As we sit down at the table, there is an unexpected knock at the front door.

William runs to the door and I hear him excitedly greet Jack Sparrow as I follow him to the front of the house. Jack kneels down to William's level and greets him. He notes how big William has gotten, telling him that he'll be a whelp just like his dear old dad. This makes William smile bigger than I have seen in months, and I greet Jack warmly, pleasantly surprised by his visit. He tells me that he is just passing through because he has run short on rum, though he is surprisingly tactful around William. Rather than calling it rum, he claims that he has run short on what he hopes will never be gone, and that based on my history with that problem, he is unsure as to why he came to my place of residence first.

I laugh and invite him to stay for dinner. He agrees, but only if I can offer him some of what he came to shore for. I inform him that I can do just that once William goes to bed. He winks at me and swaggers to the kitchen, claiming that if my cooking is half as good as my "rather annoying ability to put a man in his place," he won't leave unsatisfied. I smirk at his backward compliment and follow him into the kitchen.

The three of us have a fun meal together, with Jack telling William the story of his time in the locker for the third time. William loves to hear about the rocks that turned into crabs and how they helped bring Jack to the shore. Thankfully, Jack has never mentioned my lapse in judgment and the story of how he ended up in the locker in the first place. He and I settled that the first time Jack met William several years ago. I sat with Jack for hours and wholeheartedly apologized, and he accepted, claiming he would have done the same thing. As I watch Jack interact with my son, I am bemused by their kinship and I am grateful that Jack has taken a solid place in my family's life. After all, were it not for him, we would not even be a family.

After dinner, I take William up to his bedroom so he can get ready for bed. Not surprisingly, he asks Uncle Jack to tell him another story before he falls asleep. Jack obliges by telling him the story of his quest to get the Black Pearl back from Barbossa right after the battle with the East India Trading Company. He explains how he cleverly cut out the necessary part of the map leading to the Fountain of Youth so that he would have proper leverage should Barbossa engage in another mutiny. As usual, Jack tells his story with grand language and exaggerated descriptions and William soaks it up like a sponge. He tells Jack that he cannot wait to be a pirate someday, and Jack says that if he ever wants to sail with him as a member of the crew for the Black Pearl, he has a spot. William smiles sleepily and I tell Jack that is our cue to leave. I dim the lantern in his room and we slip out.

Back in the parlor, I pour Jack some rum and we sit down to catch up. He tells me that Barbossa has acquired his own ship in a recent skirmish just outside of Port Royal, so he has named Gibbs as his new first mate. I tell him about my plans to move back to Port Royal as soon as Will returns next summer. I make no effort to hide my smile when I realize that I can now use the phrase "next summer." It makes it seem much closer, much more real. Jack nods in my direction and says he knows how excited I am and tells me to bring the whelp back to Tortuga to visit "the man who, due to the most fortuitous of circumstances, was able and willing to aid said whelp so that he could fully experience the act of marriage which he had engaged in on the very day said man saved him from his untimely death." I roll my eyes, smiling at the sentiment, and tell him that Will and I will make it a point to keep in touch with him.

Jack leaves shortly thereafter, claiming that even though Barbossa is no longer on the ship, you can never trust a crew without a captain for too long. He tells me that they all send their best and they will be looking for us on the sea sometime soon. I tell him that William and I plan on making our voyage shorter this coming winter so that we can be back in time for Will's return, and he nods in understanding. I bid him farewell and climb up the stairs to my bedroom.

As I walk down the hallway, I sneak a glimpse into William's room to make sure he is asleep. I see his small frame rise and fall with steady breaths, and I smile. I make my way to my bedroom and I pull the familiar chest from its special place at the foot of my bed. I place my ear to it and I can hear Will's heart beating as strongly and steadily as ever. I can hardly believe that in exactly one year, he and I will finally be together again.

Once I lay down, I begin to think about our last day together. The memory lulls me to sleep as I recall walking towards him on that beach, knowing that we had very limited time together. Words were unnecessary in the moment, and we held each other for a long time in silence. It was a constant struggle to hold back my tears; I knew that I had to be strong—we had no time to waste.

I had pictured our first night together as husband and wife differently, but there was something to be said for watching the sunset on a completely secluded beach together. The crew of the Pearl, in a surprising gesture of thoughtfulness, had placed several blankets, some food, and a bottle of rum in the dingy with me. We placed the blankets in the sand and watched the sun dip below the horizon. We finally broke our silence about the current situation and began to reshape the many plans we had made for the future.

Twilight fell, and I remember my sense of urgency squelching any sense of nervousness that night. Soft kisses quickly became passionate and desperate as the moon rose above the sea. It was almost as if time stood still for us that night; in the rush of the moment, all plans for the future disappeared. All that mattered was the two of us, how much we loved each other, and finally being able to come together both spiritually and physically. Our exhaustion from the week's events was forgotten; we spent the entire night lying on the beach talking and basking in the pleasure of being able to hang propriety and enjoy being husband and wife.

The sun began to rise over the horizon and we watched it in silence, leaning on each other for physical as well as emotional support. My stronghold finally broke, and tears began to fall silently down my face. A tear fell off my cheek and onto his arm, and he turned to me with sorrow etched in his feature. As he wiped my tears away with his elbow, he leaned back and I fell into his embrace. I could think of nothing to say other than how unfair life could be; after everything we had been through, we were being ripped apart just after we found our way back to each other.

Will comforted me in a way that only he knew how, and I recalled the night we found out my father had been killed. He cradled me in his arms ad told me that we would get through the next ten years and make up for lost time ten times over once we were reunited. He told me that he loved me and always would, that he would dream of me every night and think of me every day. I could read in his eyes that he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince me, and I told him that I believed him and that I loved him as well.

We spent the entire day much as we had the night before, whispering endearments and taking each other to the stars and back in the warm sun. Every touch brought forth a new sensation, and I tried to focus on that rather than the fact that when the night fell, it would take my new husband with it. We began to redress, and I saw one of Will's boots lying behind a rock. I pulled it on in a subconscious way of stalling the inevitable. He told me that he would be needing it, so I placed my foot on the rock and watched his gaze travel up my leg and to my eyes. I smiled down at him, and allowed him to slide the boot off my foot.

Suddenly his face was on my bare leg, and I felt his hands roaming around the territory that he had rightfully claimed for himself in recent hours. The roughness of his face and hands on my leg brought back rushing memories of the last twenty-four hours, and I closed my eyes, relishing the feelings only Will evoke from me. I heard him say that it was nearly sunset, which ripped me from my reverie and back to reality. I felt the fluttering in my heart caused by his caresses turn to ice and fall immediately to my stomach. My eyes opened and confirmed that our time was almost up. As I watched him walk away from me and to the chest, my breaths came faster and I felt my throat close with emotion.

Our one day was almost over. Soon, I realized, I would be left with nothing but waiting for the one day that he would finally return to me.

As I drift off to sleep, I smile to myself. That one day is soon. So very soon.

_Captain William Turner_

_The Flying Dutchman_

The sun is rising on what is to be the first day of the last year I will be bound to the Dutchman.

The candles in my cabin are burned down to nothing; I have been up all night writing in William's storybook. It has grown from just a book of adventures to a book containing any advice that crosses my mind, life lessons that only experience has taught me. In a way, it comforts me because William has had to live without a father for his entire life. Elizabeth, I am more than sure, is an incredible mother. I am positive that she has taught him to be a polite boy with manners, but has encouraged his adventurous side as well. I could tell from his letter alone that he is incredibly intelligent, and I cannot wait to hear about all of the trouble he has gotten into over the years. If he is anything like Elizabeth, he will have a mischievous streak a mile long.

I cannot wait to give William this book when I finally meet him, one year from today. I take a deep breath. I can hardly believe it has already been nine long years. I have not aged in body, but I feel as if I have gained a lifetime of experience. I have learned, above anything else, the importance of duty. I have always known my duty is to Elizabeth—I have loved her from the moment I first saw her, and I know that her safety and happiness is my ultimate charge. I have never met my son, but I know that my duty now lay with him as well. For the past nine years, my duty has been to the Flying Dutchman, ferrying souls. I had the duty of being an apprentice to Mr. Brown, the duty of finding Jack by Lord Beckett's orders, and the duty of ending the curse aboard the Black Pearl. It has taken me a long time to realize that, at the heart of these duties, the goal is always the same. I do it all for Elizabeth.

The one exception was my duty to save my father from Davy Jones. That duty ultimately cost me my life and almost cost me my wife. While my curse is at times unbearable, I try to remember that I could have died that day and that I have the opportunity to begin my life with Elizabeth very soon. I have done my duty aboard the Dutchman and soon I will be able to fulfill my duty as a husband.

I dust the wet ink in the large book before I close it for the night. I look around my cabin and sigh before standing up and heading to the deck. The crew is milling about, doing their daily tasks without complaint. I walk to my father and smile at him, and he returns it. He knows that this is the last "anniversary" he must watch me endure, and he tells me that he is very proud of my strength these past nine years. I thank him before I take his place at the wheel. We spent a few moments talking, and he asks me how my project for William is going. I inform him that it is going well, and ask if he has any grandfatherly advice he wishes me to share with my son. He shakes his head and says that he himself is still trying to learn how to be a father. I take a moment to tell him how much the past nine years have meant to me and how grateful I am that we have had the chance to get to know one another. He pats me on the back before he heads down below to rest.

For some reason, I cannot get my mind off the last time I saw Elizabeth. Everything about that day is in the front of my mind today and, though I cannot explain it, I welcome it. It was simultaneously the best and hardest day of my life, one that I hope I never have to endure again. If all goes according to plan, once Elizabeth and I reunite next year I will be free from my duty here. Our love has endured the decade and we will finally have the opportunity to spend the rest of our lives together.

The water is calm today, so I take a moment and finally allow the memory of my last day with Elizabeth to take over my thoughts. I close my eyes and first allow the memory of the weather to engulf my senses. The air was hot and dry, but the gentle breeze on the beach made the day comfortable and pleasant. The smell of spices was prevalent, and I remember holding Elizabeth all day and night on that beach, breathing in her scent as we finally came together as one.

We had waited so long for that night we wasted no time with formalities. After watching the sunset and attempting to wrap our heads around the looming decade, we could no longer keep up pretenses. I knew that, as eager as we both were, I had to take things as slow as Elizabeth wished. I knew, as I always have, that my duty was to her. She quickly made it clear to me that we had waited long enough. We became lovers in every sense of the word that night, losing ourselves in each other while bearing in mind that we had a very limited time together.

When the sun rose, I knew that it would be another ten years before I could watch a sunrise with my wife again. I spent that day memorizing every inch of my wife's body, knowing that the memory would be what kept me warm during the long nights that lay ahead. Though I had no heart, I felt more alive that day than I ever had before. I had been in love with Elizabeth for years, but in those twenty-four hours, I learned that she had the ability to make me fall in love with her all over again with a simple look, a small smile, a loving touch.

As the day drew to a close, the time finally came for us to say goodbye. I dressed myself, quickly realizing that Elizabeth had cheekily taken one of my boots. When I went to retrieve it from her, I could not help but reacquaint myself with what I had so recently been granted access to. I tore my gaze away from her and watched the sun continue to dip slowly towards the horizon. I could not stop myself from calling attention to it, and I unwillingly let go of her and began to walk towards the shore—there was one more thing I had to do before I left.

It has always been and always will be my duty to ensure Elizabeth's safety and happiness, but I had to ask her if she was willing to take on a duty for me. I walked over to a nearby rock, to the chest containing my heart. I looked down at it until I sensed her presence behind me. I told her that it had always belonged to her. I had realized in the recent hours that I did not need to miss my heart because it had never truly been mine. I took a deep breath and asked Elizabeth to keep it safe.

I could see in her eyes that she knew our time was drawing to a close, and I could sense that she was trying to stay strong for me. The emotion of the moment was overwhelming as she agreed and took the chest from my hands. I knew before I left I had to take in one last breath of her, so I walked closer to her, feeling the chest between us softly vibrate with my beating heart inside. I closed my eyes and placed my forehead against hers. I recalled saying goodbye to her in the prison before I left on my mission for Beckett—but this time was painfully different. I knew that I would not be able to see her for ten long years after this moment.

I took a quick breath and opened my eyes, mere inches away from her face. Her forehead still lay against mine, and I looked at her face for a moment, drinking her in. Her eyes were still closed, and I could feel her trembling with emotion. I swore to myself that I would remember how she looked in that moment for the rest of my life, then I broke contact suddenly. If I had to endure ten years without her, I wanted to remember her in that way, in that moment. I did not look back as I walked away from her.

Elizabeth had different plans, and I gratefully obliged her. She called my name, and I turned to her just as she reached me, throwing herself into my arms. I kissed her more passionately than ever before, again reminding myself to take in that moment and cherish it for the rest of my life. When we finally broke apart, I spoke to her the very words I had said to her so long before. I told her to keep a weather eye on the horizon. I gave her a small smile and made my way to the Flying Dutchman before I lost complete control over myself.

I made my way onto the deck and gave the crew their orders. The green flash took us to the other side, and I knew that my duty had officially begun. I made my way down to the cabin and did not break down until I was alone.

I have re-lived that day, those precious moments, so many times in my head it is like a familiar song. It has helped me get through nine years of servitude and it will help me get through the final year.

One day soon, I will not have to wake up and leave my wife. I will be able to wake up next to her and know that we have a lifetime together rather than just hours. Thankfully, that one day is much sooner rather than later. Exactly one year from this moment, I will be with Elizabeth.


	11. 10 Years

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I just borrow them for fun sometimes!

_Elizabeth Turner & William Turner III_

I have never known true excitement as I know it now. The past twenty-four hours have seemed longer than the last ten years combined. The time has finally—finally—come. The sun is deep red as it sinks down to the horizon. I watch it set painfully slowly as William and I walk to the beach. As we reach a bluff overlooking the sea, William skips ahead of me, unable to contain his excitement. I hear him singing the song he has known since he could speak, and I smile to myself, indescribably grateful that we have finally made it to this day. My son is about to meet his father, and I am about to be reunited with my husband. Words cannot fully express the joy I am feeling at this moment.

As I watch the sun set ever so slowly, I take a moment and recall the past year. We have not had a moment to settle, which has made the time pass quickly. William and I set sail for Port Royal and it did me good to see the town again. We stayed with family friends and I settled the rest of my father's estate while William took it upon himself to explore the entire city. I found a place for us to live and we spent two months there, setting everything up so that we could move there as soon as Will is ready.

I made a point to take William to Mr. Brown's smithy so I could show him where his father grew up. We learned that Mr. Brown had passed away a few years earlier, and his son had come over from England to run the shop. The city has grown in my absence, and I am excited to call it my home once more.

We found the Pearl on our voyage back to Tortuga and spent some time with Jack and the crew. Jack, in a gesture that only an "uncle" can make, gave Mr. Cotton's parrot to William, asking him to take care of it. I believe his exact phrasing was "The bloody bird is talking me ear off." William accepted the gift and promised to keep him safe. I have learned in the months since that Cotton's parrot truly is a talkative one, and he tends to perch on the counter as I am cooking dinner and offer one-lined criticisms. William's personal favorite is the time I attempted to make a stew for dinner and, as he came down the stairs for dinner, the bird flew to his shoulder, screeching for him to "abandon ship." Suffice it to say, the bird has opened the door for my personal improvement in the kitchen and provided William with a constant companion so I cannot complain.

We sailed back to Tortuga to make some more preparations for Will's return, and as the days flew by, the level of excitement in our home could be sensed by anyone who came to visit. As the sun set after dinner last night, I knew there would be no sleep in my house.

William was like a loose cannon, running around the house and rearranging the furniture so that his papa would be pleased and making sure we had plenty to eat and drink because he would surely be hungry, and making sure that his pillows were fluffed because he would surely be tired after his long duty. I finally just sat down in the living room and watched him run around me, never missing a step. I smiled and shook my head, laughing at his energy. I could hardly contain myself, either.

The evening grew chilly, so I lit a fire and William and I sat in front of it for hours, talking about what the next day might possibly bring. He asked me for the details of the curse for the thousandth time, making sure he understood everything. He wanted to be absolutely certain that everything would go right. I wrapped my arms around him and told him that before sunset tomorrow, we would make our way to the beach and wait for the magnificent green flash in the sky. I told him that as long as we were there waiting for him, his father's curse should be over and his duty to the Flying Dutchman completed, and we could finally start our lives together. William asked if we could spend all day at the beach so we could be positive not to miss the flash, and I agreed.

We spent the next morning in the house, making sure everything was in order. We packed a picnic and went to the bluff to wait for the sun to set. William brought his kite with him, and I watched him run around with it blowing in the breeze. He turned to me and told me that the breeze was bringing his Papa home, and I heartily agreed with him. As the afternoon passed, I felt a stirring in my heart and knew that the time was near.

Everything has brought me to this moment. All the pain in my life, all of my decisions, all of my years alone have made me who I am today and have led me here. William stops skipping and stands as still as a statue as I walk up behind him and place my arm around his shoulders. I feel his body tense and I hold my breath as the sun finally disappears. This time, I do not miss it.

The green flash.

It lasts a split second, shooting up into the sky and across the horizon before it fades into the twilight.

Then I see it. The Flying Dutchman, sailing towards us on the horizon. The breeze begins to blow and I feel it carrying the ship closer to us, carrying Will closer to us. William lets out his breath and looks up at me, tears shining in his eyes. It is time. I smile broadly at him, and we begin our descent to the beach.

_William Turner_

_The Flying Dutchman_

When one's days are as routine as mine, it is easy to get lost in the sunrises and sunsets and forget what day it is. Today is not such a day.

I have spent the last year going about my duty with more dedication than the previous nine put together. I have taken on many new members of the crew and I have seen many pass on. Mr. Cotton took his leave, as well as some of the other men I have grown to call my friends these past ten years.

Ten years. I cannot yet believe that I have made it, that the day has finally come. I have tried to contact Calypso and ask her if I have served my charges well, if I have earned my freedom, but I have not yet been visited by her. I have faith, however, and I am almost certain that today will be my last day as the captain of this ship.

I have spent these last months thanking my crew and expressing profusely that they have made the past decade more bearable. I have spent many nights with my father, sharing more stories and re-telling quite a few, laughing and talking until the morning.

The only thing I will miss about this ship is my father, and I have told him so frequently. I have thoroughly enjoyed his company over the past ten years, both of us trying to make up for so many years lost. I no longer see him as a man that left me, a man that I hardly knew. He is my father and I have come to know him both as a parent and as a man. I am thankful that we were given this second chance, and I am very sad to leave him.

I am packing up the few belongings I have in my cabin, watching the moon cross over the sky through my window. It won't be much longer now; a few hours at the most.

I pull out the book I have made for my son, and I feel a flutter of nerves at the prospect of meeting him soon. The nerves are quickly suppressed by excitement, and I gently wrap the book so that it will not get damaged. I have also spent time making him a wooden sword so that he and I can practice until he is old enough to train with a real one.

I then go to a small drawer next to my bed and pull out a gift that I have made for Elizabeth. I have made sure to keep this a secret from everyone, even my father; I want it to be a secret between Elizabeth and myself. There is still some sea life attached to the Dutchman, and one of my first nights as captain, in a moment of pure despair, I happened to find a clamshell on the stern of the ship. I pried it off and pulled it apart to find a beautiful pearl inside. I cleaned it and absentmindedly placed it in my pocket, without any real intention.

Over a year later, in another time of great sadness, I found myself repeating the action with the same result. I then decided to save the pearls and make a gift for Elizabeth—but I would only find one pearl for each year. I wanted to have ten perfect pearls by the end of my time as captain, so that I could make her a necklace she could wear. I also discovered a way to make the pearls even more significant for her, and I cannot wait to give it to her and tell her how much making it has meant to me.

I carefully place the necklace in my pocket and continue my preparations for sunrise. My father comes down to my cabin and tells me to sit down. He startles me by saying that he has decided to move on. I am surprised at my onrush of emotion as he asks me to ferry him to the other side as my last act as captain. I hug him and sadly agree to his request. He held me in a fatherly embrace for several minutes before thanking me and heading up to the deck to say his farewells.

I raise anchor and ferry him to the other side, knowing that I will never see him again. I am choked with emotion as I hug him one last time, telling him that I love him and how grateful I am that he stayed aboard as first mate. He nods and tells me to say hello to his daughter-in-law and grandson for him before he steps off the boat and onto the small boat that will take him to find rest. I watch him sail into the horizon, knowing that he is finally at peace. I take a deep breath and turn the ship back around, watching the moon as it slowly fades into the sea.

The sky is beginning to turn pink with the dawn, and I see the sun peeking over the horizon. The time has finally come. I tell the crew that it has been a pleasure serving as their captain and that soon Calypso will come aboard and they will find a new captain should she release me from my charge. They nod and thank me for giving them proper forestallment of their judgments.

I turn to the horizon just in time to see the sun completely, and the ship automatically dives without my order. I know at that moment that Calypso has released me—I am no longer in charge of the ship. As we break free into the twilight sky, I climb to the crow's nest so that I can see Elizabeth and William as soon as I am close enough.

I see the cliffs in the distance; I can see the waves breaking on the sand as the wind carries me closer to my family. The time has finally come, the day that I have longed for.

I quickly scan the entire shore, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. I then feel my breath hitch in my throat as I see a woman standing on the bluff just ahead. I recognize Elizabeth immediately, and as I get closer, I see little William standing beside her. I can see them. They are there, they are alive and well, and they are waiting for me.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

As the Flying Dutchman neared the shore, Will bid one last farewell to his faithful crew and quickly made his way onto the sand. He had seen Elizabeth and William standing on the bluff and they had disappeared on the descent to the beach. Suddenly, he heard Elizabeth cry out his name—the sweetest sound he had heard in years.

He turned in the direction of her voice and saw her running towards him, her long hair flying behind her. He had never seen her look more beautiful. He began to run to her, completely unaware of how he was functioning. He just knew he had to reach her as quickly as possible.

He dropped his heavy parcel in the sand just before he reached his wife, whose arms were flung open, ready for his embrace. The moment he touched her, Will could feel the fluttering sensation in his chest once again. He lifted Elizabeth up in the air and took in every sensation he was feeling. As he spun her around, laughing out of pure joy, he realized he had a heartbeat.

In the breeze, they heard Calypso's whisper—Will was free and his heart had been returned to him.

Elizabeth could bear it no longer, and pulled Will to her in a passionate and long-awaited kiss. When they finally broke apart, Will placed his forehead against hers as he had done so many times before. They gazed at each other until they heard a soft shuffling of feet in the sand and a small cough.

Will then turned to see his son standing a few feet away, looking completely appalled by his parents' display of affection. Elizabeth took a deep breath and introduced William to his father for the first time. William shyly offered his hand to his father as if he expected a handshake—he was so flustered he did not know how to react. Will quickly kneeled to his son's level and gently grabbed his little hand, shaking it twice and then keeping his grip, pulling his son into a strong embrace.

Elizabeth felt tears sting her eyes at the tender display between her husband and son, though she was slightly confused that Will did not seem very surprised by the news. After several moments, Will finally loosened his grip and held his son at arm's length.

"I received your letter," he said softly, bringing his hands to his neck and removing the piece of twine he had been wearing for three years. "I believe this belongs to you. I have kept it safe as best I could for you."

William's eyes lit up as he took the piece of eight from his father. He turned to his mother with a triumphant grin.

"See, mama? I told you I didn't lose it!"

Elizabeth stared at them both in shock and confusion until Will stood up and explained that William had contacted him through a letter in a bottle three years ago; that he had known about his son because little William was brilliant and found a way to contact him. She instantly felt a wave of pride for her son's actions, and gratitude that Will had already proven to be a wonderful father, even in his unfortunate absence.

They stayed together on the beach for some time before they finally made their way back home for the night. William's exhaustion from the excitement of the day finally caught up with him, and he began to doze off in front of the fire as his mother and father talked, attempting to fill the gaps of their separation.

When they noticed that their son had begun to close his eyes, they decided to carry him up to his bedroom and put him to sleep for the night. As they tucked him in, little William found a new wave of energy and sat straight up in his bed.

"Papa! Papa, you can tell me a story! Can you, please?"

Will laughed softly and obliged. His son's request reminded him of something, and he quickly ducked out of the room to fetch the book he had spent so much time writing for his son. He presented the gift to him, telling him that it was a book filled with all of his adventures, both as a boy and with William's mother. William's eyes grew round as he reverently turned the pages of the enormous book.

"I can start by reading you one of the stories if you would like; but the book is yours to read as many times as you want."

William nodded and said that he would love to hear one of the stories from the book before he fell asleep. Will brought the covers up under his son's chin and told him the tale of he and Elizabeth fighting against the Black Pearl as they attempted to escape Captain Barbossa. Before he reached the part about lowering the anchor on the starboard side as a means of surprising their enemy, he noticed that William was breathing steadily in a deep sleep. Will was overcome with emotion as he watched his little boy's chest rise and fall. His son really did look just like him, and he could hardly wait to spend time getting to know him.

Elizabeth stayed in the corner of the room, watching her husband and her son interact with one another. She had to fight back tears as she realized the devotion and time Will had put into the storybook for their son, still hardly believing that they could finally all be together as a family. When William fell asleep, she watched Will silently stand up from the side of the bed and lean over to softly kiss William's forehead before walking in Elizabeth's direction.

They both discovered quickly that words were superfluous in their situation, and they held each other, watching their son sleep, for several long minutes in silence. Elizabeth finally turned to her husband and took his hand, leading him to their bedroom. They sat on their bed with the lanterns dim, both secretly terrified of falling asleep—fearing that it was all a dream. Will took a deep breath, pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in Elizabeth's hand.

She opened her palm to see a lovely pearl necklace. She gasped and looked back up at Will, her eyes questioning. He slid over to her side and began to explain how he had made the necklace by looking for the pearls in moments of despair—moments when he needed her most.

"There are ten pearls on this necklace, Elizabeth. I found many, but only chose one during every year we were apart from each other. These ten pearls represent the ten years we were forced to spend apart, and they represent how much I love you and how much I need you. Each pearl is a different color, and each color is significant to both of us in one way or another. See this golden pearl? That is the color of your wedding dress, the dress you were wearing the day that we should have become husband and wife. Even though we were not officially married that day, I will never forget how beautiful you looked. And this black pearl here, well, that is fairly self-explanatory. The ship brought us together and it is where we were finally married. This honey-colored pearl is the exact color of your eyes. This purple one represents the color of royalty, your status as the king of the Brethren Court. This green pearl is the same shade of green you told me you wore when you were made the captain of the Empress. And this deep violet pearl, it is the color of the dress Barbossa forced you to wear aboard the Black Pearl. The red pearl represents my heart, the heart that you kept safe for me all these years until Calypso could finally return it to me. This maroon pearl is the color I wore on the day at the fort when we rescued Jack from hanging—the first day I told you that I loved you. This blue pearl is the color of the sea that we both love. And this last pearl, this white one, represents the purity of my love for you. I love you with all of my heart, and I will love you until the day I die."

Elizabeth was unconscious of the tears streaming down her cheeks as Will gently touched each pearl with every detail of his story. She placed the necklace around her neck and lovingly placed her hand on his cheek. He leaned his face into her hand, reacquainting himself with the familiarity of her touch. He closed his eyes and felt Elizabeth pulling her to him for a soft kiss.

They stayed awake for several hours, talking and finally allowing themselves the proper wedding night they were denied ten years before. As they turned down the lamps and held each other, they knew that everything they had been through was well worth the wait.

In the middle of the night, Elizabeth awoke suddenly from her slumber. She allowed her eyes to focus and felt a sinking feeling that she had been dreaming the entire time. Then she looked to Will's side of the bed, as she had done so many times before. This time, however, she saw him sleeping next to her—she did not have to imagine it. She watched him breathe softly for several moments before she placed her head back on her pillow. She slid over so that she could hold him next to her, and she weaved her arm underneath his and felt him grip her hand in his sleep.

She closed her eyes and relished the feel of his steady beating heart against her. She had hugged the chest to herself so many times, in that very position. She placed an ear to his back and allowed the gentle thump to lull her back to sleep.

She no longer had to worry about the future. She did not have to worry about telling him anything one day. Their one day had finally arrived, and her last conscious thought before she finally succumbed to sleep was that they not only had this one day—they had thousands and thousands of days, and she did not plan on wasting a single one of them.


	12. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I just borrow them for fun sometimes!

A/N: All done! I hope you had as much fun reading as I had writing!

**Epilogue**

_The Turner Family_

_Port Royal_

It had been one year to the day since Will joined his wife and son. They spent three weeks in Tortuga before they set sail to Port Royal. Will spent every afternoon playing with his son and every evening tucking him into bed accompanied with a story from their book. He helped Elizabeth around the house and they spent several nights talking until dawn, making new plans for their future together.

One night just after supper, Will heard a knock at the door. He went to answer it and found Jack Sparrow waiting to be let in. Will was surprised at his emotional reaction to his old friend. He shook his hand strongly and invited him in, telling him that they were just about to put little William to bed.

Jack looked around the Turner home with an appraising eye and said that for a whelp and his "bonnie lass that is unfortunately not really a new bride seeing as they have a junior whelp already and were sadly separated for ten long years but finally have been reunited and can finally start to make an honest living together," it was an upright home. Will, confused by Jack's speech but also recognizing the compliment, thanked him.

William saw the two of them in the hallway and ran to them, begging them to tell him a story together before he went to bed. Jack and Will exchanged an amused look and agreed. Elizabeth followed the three of them up the stairs to William's room, chuckling to herself.

As William lay in bed, eagerly awaiting their story, Elizabeth once again stood in the doorway and observed the scene in front of her.

"Well, now, dear William," Jack began. "Allow me to enlighten you as to the situation involving your dear old dad and me as we decided to go on a mission to rescue your poor mum after she so graciously invoked the right of parlay with our old friend Hector so many years ago…"

The story took nearly an hour to tell, and William was still fully awake by the end of it because all four of them were laughing to the point of tears. It had quickly gone from being a story to a banter between Will and Jack as to who the real hero of the story was, along with Elizabeth piping up in her defense several times.

When William finally fell asleep, Will escorted Jack back down to the parlor while Elizabeth poured them all glasses of rum. They sat up all night long, regaling each other with heroic tales and their takes on their many adventures. They had come so far since they all met, and they had found lifelong friends in each other—though deep down, they knew they were all pirates and sometimes made selfish decisions. Will had his loyalty, Elizabeth had her determination, and Jack had his uncanny ability to make things up as he went along. Each a pirate in their own right, and each a good human being as well.

As the sun began to rise over the horizon, they began to make plans for a voyage. This time, all three Turners would be aboard the Empress, and it would sail alongside the Pearl. They had no destination in mind, but that did not matter. All that mattered was that one day very soon, they would all be on the sea together.


End file.
